


The Covers of Books

by Akhuna



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarves, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gnomes, Sexual Humor, Some Humor, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 36,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5592760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akhuna/pseuds/Akhuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Velen has been a terrible idea from the start - Eskel is sure about that as he enters a small inn on a cold and rainy evening. Little does he know that he's in for more than one surprise; and for some big changes ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaevesChild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaevesChild/gifts), [rhetoricalrogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhetoricalrogue/gifts).



„ _Okay, okay, I got it. So you somehow managed to get yourself a woman. So what? Why did you bring her HERE? Is Geralt such an idol to you that-“_

„ _Shut up, Lambert. First, she's not 'my woman'. And second, she is NOT here so I can prove my manliness to you.“_

„ _Point taken. But again – why did you bring her HERE?!“_

„ _That's somewhat complicated ...“_

_~ ~ ~_

 

He hadn't even fully entered the inn yet when he already heard a muffled scream.  
_Great_.

Eskel shoved himself through the door, then made a point of standing tall and took a good look around. The inn was crowded – no wonder, since a light but annoying rain was falling outside and the air was damp and cold. Almost every table was occupied: Mostly locals, several groups of men, drinking, dicing, playing Gwynt or staring into the void, two healers, and a halfling family of four. The room smelled of beer, bacon … and a whiff of old barf that hadn't been cleaned up properly. It was warm.

The scream had probably come from the service girl whom he spotted immediately. She was tall and slender, had long blonde curles, and wore one of those fitting dresses that showed just enough cleavage to get drunk men ordering just one more mug of ale to get a chance of staring at her tits. As he was making another step into the room, the girl retreated to the far side of the room.

 _As far away from me as possible_.

Adjusting the swords on his back with a shrug, Eskel made his way to the counter, where the owner was eyeing him suspiciously.

„A beer. Food. And a room, if you please.“

The old man grabbed a filthy rag and started to wipe down the counter. „Food, yes. A beer, too. But a room … A'hm sorry, Master Witcher, but we're full. You can't sleep here.“

Eskel grunted, which produced a stiffled giggle from the server who was still staring at his scars. „What about the stable?“

„The stable?“

He surpressed a sigh. „Listen, good man, I need a roof over my head for the night. The rain won't stop for some time, and if you do not want to give me one of your rooms-“

„All rooms are taken!“, the owner repeated stubbornly, throwing the rag after a large mouse that scurried into a nook between the barrels behind the counter. He missed by inches.

„Fine, since all of your rooms are taken, I am asking you to allow me to sleep in the stable. There is plenty of room there, and ...“

„No guest sleeps in the stable.“ The innkeep look at him in disdain, „this is a proper inn, you know?! The lord of this realm praised it two years ago!“

_And apparently hasn't set foot in it since._

Eskel gritted his teeth. „Fine. Beer then, and food. I'm hungry.“

„Pay is upfront, Master Witcher.“ the old man crossed his arms and put on what he obviously considered a brave, stern face. It looked like a severe case of constipation.

The witcher's eyes gleamed, but he dug into his pocket and threw a few coins on the table. The innkeep swept them into his palm and bit into one of them. „Solid.“

„Glad to hear that“, Eskel said drily.

Trying to keep his face perfectly neutral, he turned around, automatically scanning the room for the darkest, quietest corner.

 _Damn_.

The only spot which was a bit more private was already occupied by an elderly merchant and two whores, both snuggling against the old man. One of the girls pointed at him openly and whispered something into her client's ear – the old man's laughter boomed through the room, unnaturally loud. One look into Eskel's face brought it to an abrupt halt. The silence that followed was eerie.

Everybody stared at him, some expressions frightened, some disgusted, and some both. After a minute, Eskel moved to a bench near an empty table and as if by an unseen signal, the chatter started again, maybe a little louder than before. His boots were leaving wet marks on the floorboards. He passed the table occupied by the halfling family; one of the children shrieked as he went by, but was shushed by its mother immediately.

The Witcher sat with his back to the wall, leaned against it and closed his eyes for a second. He crossed his arms and stiffled a yawn.

 _A fucking ending to a fucking day_.

First, his former client had cheated him out of the agreed sum for the vampire that had stalked the village, because he had brought only the vampire's sigil instead of the whole body. Pointing out that the body had to be _burned_ to destroy the creature properly (as he had told his client before) hadn't worked. The fat lord had been stubborn, squatting in his seat which was too small for him, and had yelled at Eskel for being a shame to his profession, lazy and unwilling to work hard. Given the new slash on his upper arm from the vampire's claws, Eskel hadn't taken that too well either; in the end, he had grudgingly accepted half of the agreed price. To top everything off, Scorpion had lost a shoe an hour after their departure. Finding a smith in this forsaken part of the world had taken ages, especially when you had to go on foot, and the price had been ridiculously high, half of his coins. Eskel growled quietly.

 _This would never have happened to Geralt,_ he thought. _Geralt would have met some sorceress on his way who would have summoned a new shoe for Roach and then a bed for the two of them to fuck in_.

The slash itched. It wasn't deep – he had already checked – but he would need hot water to wash the wound properly, and a good night's sleep wouldn't hurt either. Apparently, he would get neither, but it couldn't be helped. Velen had been a terrible idea from the start.


	2. Chapter 2

„Oh no! NO! You CAN'T possibly make me serve him!“ The hysterical voice of a woman brought Eskel back into the here and now. Opening his eyes a bit, he saw the blonde girl standing at the counter, gesticulating in his direction. „PLEASE. He's just _so ugly_ , father! And I have seen him leering at me already!“

Eskel sat up straighter, opening his eyes fully now. He felt as if a hot fountain was rising in his stomach, and the inkeep must have seen his anger flash, for he put a hand on his daughter's arm and tried to calm her, keeping his voice down. Obviously, he had no idea that Eskel could still hear him.

„I _know_ , Priscilla, I _know_ “, the old man whispered urgently, all the while shooting glances in the Witcher's direction, „but _please_ , stop making such a fuss! He might hear you, and then he will get angry and might kill us all!“

Eskel had had enough. He was just about to get up, maybe turn over the table and walk out, when the door to a backroom, probably the kitchen, opened, and a young woman of small statue appeared, carrying some mugs. She had flaming red hair, darker skin than anybody else in the room, and approached cautiously. She looked … annoyed, Eskel noticed, and a bit angry, too. As if she was expecting something unpleasant.

On her approaching, the blonde girl's protest started anew. „Juka can serve him, father!“, she announced, „Juka won't mind, do you, Juka?“, her voice had taken a false sweetness and height as if she was talking to an idiot.

„No, I don't. In general, I do not mind serving _any_ of our guests.“, the dark girl answered drily. She turned her head to look in Eskel's direction, and their eyes met for a moment, before she focused on the blonde girl once more. „What's your problem with him anyway? Is he already drunk? Not quite right in the head?“

„Oh, haven't you _seen_ him, Juka? His eyes! And his _face_! Half of his face is disfigured! He looks like an ugly goblin! I mean ...“, the blonde girl slapped a hand over her mouth. Her father nudged her arm. „Come, come, Priscilla“, he said, „that is unnecessary. It isn't Juka's fault, after all.“

„While the two of you are discussing etiquette and manners“, the girl named Juka interrupted, pointing on a small bowl and a plate in front of Priscilla, „shall _I_ serve our guest then? _Before_ everything gets stone cold, I mean?“

„Ohhh yes!“

The blonde one must really despise him, Eskel thought.

„Yes, _please_ , do that, Juka. I will even braid your hair and lend you my favourite ribbon for the dance next week!“

The girl took the bowl and the plate and made her way towards his table. „Gee, I can hardly contain myself“, she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

Eskel surpressed a grin. He watched her, while she approached, trying to lay his finger on the small details that irritated him about her appearance.

She was smaller than average, but that didn't mean anything. Many women were of little height.

 _Petite_ , he thought, and yet, 'petite' wasn't the right word to describe her. It always had an air of vulnerability to it, but there didn't seem to be anything vulnerable about this girl. The way she set her feet, moving deftly between the tables and chairs, showed self-assurance and ease. She held her head high, her shoulders back, but didn't make a show of presenting her breasts like other women did. Indeed, there was nothing erotic about her at all. She wasn't flirting with any man in the room, nor showing off, like he had seen so many other women do it and like the inkeep's daughter probably did it, too. Her hair was badly cut, short on the left side and reaching her waist on the other – she had wound it into a thick braid that was held together with a slim leather band. Another, very thin leather band was wound twice around her throat, like a necklace, and something small dangled from it, which looked a bit like a charm. It blinked whenever a streak of light hit it, and he assumed that it must be made of metal. Her clothes – a pair of roughly woven dark trousers and a shortsleeved simple shirt of unbleached wool – were patched, but seemed clean.

 

She reached his table and made a small bow with her head to greet him.

„Good evening, Master Witcher.“ She set plate and bowl in front of him and he glanced at her hands and arms.

_Ahh._

She had seemed darker in comparison with the inkeep's daughter, but he had thought that she was tanned, because she was properly doing more outside work. Now he could see that her skin was indeed darker – a strange colour, as if fair skin and an earthen tone he hadn't seen on any human before had been mixed. No half-elf then. But what other race mixed with humans?

He looked into her face, nodding his approval. „That looks good. Thank you.“

She smiled. That was a surprise – usually women smiled only in his general direction when he was standing next to Geralt. But she wasn't only polite, he suddenly realised – her smile reached her eyes as well. It was a warm smile, and for the first time in ages, he felt as if he was welcome, as if someone was pleased to see him, even though he was ugly and probably dangerous and, most of all, a stranger, hungry and cold and in a grumpy mood. She gestured to the bowl, then to the plate, which had three thick slices of bread on it.

„The soup is lentil, freshly made this morning. The bread's fresh, too, came out of the oven half an hour ago. We also have hare in the pot and a couple of potatoes and carrots – they will be ready in a bit, if you like. Beer?“

He gave her _his_ smile in return, a small, crooked smile, careful to use only his unscarred side of the face. „Yes, that would be great. Thank you.“

„Great.“ She gave him a friendly nod, bowed her head again and made her way back to the counter. He watched her for a moment, taking more orders for beer and food, answering to a joke, cleaning away empty plates from the healers' table. She seemed perfectly comfortable, as if this was _her_ place, a place where she had chosen to be, and then the aroma of lentil soup and fresh bread caught his attention, and he took a slice of bread and the spoon and started to eat with gusto.


	3. Chapter 3

He had only taken a couple of bites when he heard somebody approaching him. Expecting Juka with his beer, he didn't look up. The soup was good, the bread dark and the crust thick – he wanted to fully enjoy this dinner.

„Why are you so ugly?“

The Witcher looked up from the soup and stopped chewing bread. One of the halfling children, a boy, was standing in front of him, picking his nose and giving him a daring look.

Eskel chewed his bite and swallowed. „What?“  
„Why are you so ugly? It looks as something _ate your face_!“, the child announced loud and proud. Eskel glanced over the boy's shoulder and spotted the table where the halfling family was sitting. The child's parents, who had apparently been unaware of his absence, stared at him, their expressions utterly horrified.

„Don't you know it's impolite to ask something like that?“, he asked, keeping his voice calm, although he could feel the anger rise in him again. He spooned another portion of soup into his mouth, but a bit of it reached the part of his notched lip, and the liquid dribbled unto the table in front of him.

„You're ugly and can't even eat right!“, the boy yelled, his face now lit with a glee that was indeed quite nasty, „Mum, have you seen it? The ugly mutant can't even eat! Propooply never used a spoon before!“

Eskel stared into the bowl, embarassed and furious with the kid and himself. He would have _loved_ to give that brat a whack over the head, but this would mean the end of his stay here, and it would inevitably mean even more trouble than he was in now. But the shame ...

„And _you_ “, the third voice came out of the blue suddenly, „have never learned _manners_. That is obvious. And you cannot _speak_ properly either. It's 'probably', not 'propooply' – although 'poop' describes your behavior perfectly.“

Eskel looked up and saw Juka standing right behind the kid. She was holding a mug, probably his beer. He kept his face neutral – he didn't want her to think he was weak or that he couldn't stand up for himself. But she neither addressed him, nor did she give him any attention at all. Instead, she placed a hand on the child's shoulder who looked positively shocked. Setting the mug in front of him, she tightened her grip on the child and forced him to look her into the eyes; her expression was outraged.

„If you were _my_ kid“, she said slowly, her voice suddenly a bit deeper and with a truly frightening undertone, „you'd get such a thrashing for this that you would have to sleep on your belly for a _week_. Consider yourself lucky.“ Without losing her force on the boy's shoulder, she marched him over to his parents and pressed him unto his chair. „It is none of my business how seriously you take your children's upbringing“, Eskel heard her say, „but I will not tolerate these brats running around the inn and insulting other customers – customers who are _doing something useful_ instead of fattening themselves on the misfortune of others, if you catch my drift.“ She stared at the father, who didn't meet her eyes, but mumbled an apology that even Eskel couldn't understand. „Oh, I daresay it won't“, Juka answered drily, „because _if_ this happens again“, she now looked directly at the boy who shrank into his seat, „I _will_ make good on my promise and forget for a moment that you are not my child.“

She collected the mugs from the family's table and went behind the counter to refill them; the wooden tankards banged against the wooden barrels several times; she seemed to be still angry.

Despite his anger, Eskel had to surpress a smile.

_Quite the temper. Almost dwarvish_ .

Dwarvish? That rang something. He watched her busying herself with more mugs and plates, putting them onto the counter for Priscilla (who was helping with the serving now) to pick up. The work seemed to calm her by the minute as she concentrated on her tasks and then he caught a glimpse at her profile. Her nose was a shade too long. The ears were a bit longer than average, too, and she had three simple earrings in on each side. Her fingers seemed slim and longish.

He made a mental list. The skin colour. The metal charm around her neck, something you usually only saw on men – or the old races. The flashing temper at the open display of disrespect and her emphasis on parental responsibilites. The _nose_ , for fuck's sake. 'It isn't Juka's fault', the inkeep had said. And Priscilla's reaction when the insult about 'goblins' slipped out … That made sense now, too. The certain insight hit him with full force.

Funny how everybody said that gnomes and humans didn't breed. Apparently, there were exceptions to _this_ rule as well, and one of them was swearing under her breath a few yards away from him right now, because one of the barrels seemed to leek.

The Witcher set the bowl unto the now empty plate and pushed it away from him. Then he took a first swig of the beer. It was dark and strong and bitter. Eskel leant back again and stretched his legs under the table. Suddenly, the evening had become a whole lot more interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

While he was waiting for the rest of his meal, Eskel took another look around the inn. The halflings, he noticed, were still there, but seemed to be getting ready to leave. The healers were not talking, but made a point of ignoring the old merchant, who had one whore in his lap and was fiddling with the other's breasts while burying his face into the first girl's bosom. The groups of locals were mostly the same – a bunch of old geezers who were dicing and exchanging exaggerations at the same time, one table occupied by merchants who were discussing trade and a table of young men who were drinking too much, argued too loud and were far too unwilling to lose coins to have played Gwynt at all, at least for money.  
One of them had turned around in his chair and stared at Priscilla, who was getting a new bunch of mugs from the counter. As she brought them over to the table next to the Gwynt players, he nugded his friend next to him and pointed at her backside – the next moment, he gave her a slap on the bum which made her squeal. Eskel glanced at the inkeep who was standing behind the counter. The old man's armes were crossed and he stared at the young man with a dark, furious look. Priscilla didn't seem to mind so much, however – she squealed and turned around, but gave the guy a playful shove on the shoulder.

„Don't _do_ that!“, she giggled, but she didn't protest further as the boy pulled her unto his lap and kissed her fully on the mouth, embracing her tightly. His friends cheered, and slightly obscene remarks and suggestions flew across the table. Priscilla and the young man didn't react to them – they were still kissing and when they finally broke off, she looked breathless, but happy.

Eskel felt a pair of eyes on him and turned his head to the left; Juka, who was cleaning tankards behind the counter, was watching him with a searching look on her face. Pulling up the left corner of his mouth, he raised his eyebrows and nodded to the scene – in response, the young woman rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly. Eskel chuckled; apparently, this guy was a regular guest.

He saw Juka touching the inkeep's shoulder and pointing to his table – the old man nodded absent-mindedly, his eyes still on his daughter, who was now snuggled up against her beau and apparently tried to participate in what looked like a new round of Gwynt – the young man was whispering something into her ear and she wasn't aware that at least two of the men was openly staring at her breasts. She looked at the cards in her hands with a somewhat puzzled look, nodding and obviously trying to understand her lover's instructions.

„Enjoying the view?“

Eskel looked up.

Juka was standing next to him. „Don't worry, Master Witcher. I won't be telling on you. You're certainly not the first one to fall for her. But I'm afraid, you won't be lucky here – I know for a fact that she is engaged to this young man.“

The Witcher shook his head. „You are mistaken“, he replied, „I only find it a bit unusual that your father allows that kind of behaviour from your sister. With this inn being a _proper_ inn and all that.“ He gave her the small smile again and raised his eyebrow – but this time, she didn't join him in the joke. Her face was remaind perfectly neutral.

„Priscilla is not my sister, and the inkeep is not my father. In fact, I am not related to anybody here.“ She took his plate with the bowl on it and peered into his mug to see if it was empty.

„Can I bring you anything else, then? Another beer? More food?“

Feeling that he had offended her somehow, Eskel downed the remains of his beer and handed her the tankard. „Yes, that would be great. The bit about the beer as well. The soup was delicious – and I can't remember the last time I ate such well-made bread.“

She nodded, but didn't reply.

„Your mother is a great cook.“, he probed further, hoping to get a comment to prove his assumption.

Juka looked at him suspiciously, then took the tankard. „The mistress isn't my mother“, she said, „again – I am not related to anybody here.“

She turned around to go, but Eskel reached forward and touched her elbow with his fingertips. „I am sorry if I have offended you“, he said, „that wasn't my intention. You have been the only friendly person I have met in days, and I'd like to thank you for that. I didn't want to be impolite.“

Juka's expression softened a bit, and she was about to reply when a giggling shriek from Priscilla interrupted the inn's general chatter.

„I'll be back in a bit“, she said, nodding into the direction of Priscilla's father, „I shouldn't leave him waiting for too long, or he'll do something stupid“.

The Witcher nodded and leant back in his seat. „Tell me if you need help.“

She grinned. „Ahhh … That might be a bit too costly. But, as they say, it is the sentiment that counts. Thank you, Master Witcher. I'll sure keep it in mind“ She winked at him and finally went away.

Eskel furrowed his brow, confused.

 _Did she just flirt with me?  
_ He shook his head vigorously. He was probably overtired and started to imagine things. Nevertheless, he glanced discreetly at Juka as she went to refill his tankard.


	5. Chapter 5

He didn't have to wait long.

A few minutes later, Juka returned to the taproom, carrying a heavy-looking plate and picking up a freshly filled tankard behind the bar. Maneuvring carefully between the chairs and tables, she made her way over to him and set everything on the table.

„Your hare, Master Witcher. Enjoy.“

„Thank you. Do you get to eat, too, some time?“

She nodded and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, „I'll eat later, when it's less full, I guess. I mean, it's quiet now, everybody seems to have enough to drink – or to eat.“ She looked around to make sure that this was the case. „But I still have to pay attention, see if anybody needs anything.“

Eskel gestured to the bench on the other side of the table. „Would you like to sit down for a bit? Rest for a while, until anybody needs you?“

Juka shook her head, but smiled. „I'm sorry, but … I can't. I've got to be over at the counter – there are some tankards that need cleaning. But – I'd love to, really. I have never talked to a Witcher before.“ A spark came up in her eyes. „You must have some amazing stories to tell.“

Eskel chuckled. „Well, that depends. I'm not the best storyteller.“

She gave him a friendly grin and stepped back. „That's hard to believe, I think. Now, as I said – I'd love to have time to talk, but as long as Priscilla is, erm … _busy_ ...“

„So that one over there's really her fiancé?“, Eskel had started on the meat and waved his knife into the direction of the couple, „not the nicest guy, the way _I_ see it.“

Her face turned serious. „Better keep that to yourself“, she replied, lowering her voice. She glanced to the left and right and shifted her weight. „That's the lord's son. Local nobility. He's a complete“, she mumbled something that Eskel didn't understand, „, but you can't say no to him, yes? His father has been very generous with the taxes since the two of them have gotten serious. Her parents – _they_ _own_ the inn, by the way“, she gave him a meaningful look, „can only profit from such a marriage. And Priscilla“, she glanced over the shoulder, „well, she's _thrilled_. Absolutely smitten with him. She'd marry him now, if she could, and she can't wait to be a mother of at least three children. The wedding will be held in spring, and she's already driving us mad with her constant chatter about the preparations.“

Juka rolled her eyes and smiled.

_So she DOES care about her._

Eskel raised his eyebrows. „Spring is months away! And she's already thinking about the preparations?“

„Oh, yes. The food, the guest list, the dresses – _her_ dress in particular ...“ Juka shook her head, „everything really. But it's alright, I guess. She is making a really good match, and what more can a woman ask for in this godsforsaken part of the world?“ She shrugged.

Eskel opened his mouth, but closed it again immediately. The question if _Juka_ was hoping for a good match, too, had been on the tip of his tongue, but that was too personal. It was none of his business.

„Anyway, I should …. what the _fuck_ is he doing there?!“ The young woman had glanced at the table again, where Priscilla was still absorbed in her hand of cards. She was concentrating so hard that she didn't notice her young man fiddling at the laces of her bodice.

Eskel sat up straight and looked at Juka. Her face had become a mask of anger, the eyes were dark slits, and all the warmth and friendliness in her posture had vanished completely, replaced by wariness. She had been furious earlier – but now, Eskel noticed, she looked almost dangerous, too.

Juka drew herself up to her full height and stalked over to Priscilla's table, her hands balled into fists. Eskel put down his knife.

_This doesn't look good. I should keep an eye out for her._

It was stupid, he knew it. Again and again, Vesemir had stressed how important it was to to stay out of brawls or fights in inns, on the highway, in the villages. „We are not there to sort out anyone's problems. If there's no coin, you're not involved!“, the old Witcher had told them almost every day. Eskel had kept to this rule, mostly, and as far as he knew, his brothers had, too. Of course, there had been exceptions. None of them was going to ride by a rape or open murder. Maybe that was stupid, and maybe there was danger without pay, but he was not letting stuff like that happen – not when he had two swords on his back and the skills to safe someone single-handedly. His brothers thought so, too.

But this was different.

The incident with the kid hadn't been Juka's business as well. And yet, she had stood up for him and had intervened on his behalf. Sure, she worked here, and it was in her interest to keep trouble to an absolute minimum – but a situation like this wasn't necessarily something she was expected to sort out, and yet, she had done it for him, without thinking twice or asking for something in return. He couldn't remember that this had been the case before.

So it was _his_ turn now. And he was inclined to help her out, if it would become necessary. It was the least he could do.

„What the FUCK do you think you are doing!“, he heard Juka – she had reached the young lord's table and was glaring at him, her hands on her hips.

„Don't know what you're talking about“, he replied lazily, lowering his arms to his sides.

„Don't play dumb with me“, she hissed, „I _saw_ what you were doing. And you're going to _redo_ them as well – _now_. Or -“

„Or what?“ the young man gave her a derogatory look. „Are you gonna hit me? Or tell old scar-face you're so sweet on to throw me out?“

He glanced at Eskel, who only raised an eyebrow to that insult, but remained perfectly calm.

 _Just wait until I come over there. Then we'll see if you still have such a big mouth_.

„Juka, you're absolutely _impossible_ “, Priscilla complained. „Barnaby is teaching me how to play Gwynt, and I was _just_ getting the hang of it, and you are _ruining_ everything!“ She looked up at the young woman and pouted.

The chatter at the tables around them had died – everybody was watching the table with the young people now. Priscilla's father, Eskel noticed, was still standing behind the counter, but didn't pretend to be busy anymore; he seemed to be arguing with himself whether he should intervene.

Juka rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. „Fine. I am _sorry_ to have interrupted your honeymooning“, she sighed, „it's just that, if you haven't noticed, there are quite a lot of _people_ here“, she threw a sarcastic look at the blonde girl, „and that there is work enough for _two_ , and -“

„And still there has been more than enough time for you to be sweet on your 'Master Witcher', I get it“, Priscilla retorted saucily, „it's not as if anybody _hasn't_ noticed, you know“.

Juka blushed. She blushed so deeply that her face turned nearly the same shade of red as her hair.

Despite his utter surprise, Eskel couldn't help but admire her attempt to act as naturally as possible.

„You're absolutely _ridiculous_ “, he heard her say, crossing her arms and obviously trying to sound very dignified, „I was to be in the kitchen tonight. And if I may remind you, it was _you_ who suggested ...“

„Oh, never mind then.“ Priscilla threw her cards on the table. She looked furious now, too. „ _I'll_ get up and-“

„No! Don't just get up like that! Let me first-“ Juka put a hand on the blonde girl's shoulder, sounding panicky, but Priscilla brushed her hand off her shoulder. „Don't touch me!“, she hissed – and stood up.

 

And then she screamed, while the whole table errupted into wolf-whistles, hootings and cheers. The laces of her bodice, untied by her fiancé, had come undone and she was standing barebreasted in the middle of the inn.


	6. Chapter 6

Juka was the first to recover herself. She forced the blonde girl down on a chair, snatched up the bodice's laces and tied them up as fast as she could, so Priscilla, who was sobbing hysterically, was at least partly covered again. One of the men, a gawky guy with greasy hair, snatched Juka around the waist and tried to grope at her breast from behind. She spun around, grasping the guy's wrist and turning it around. There was an audible _crack_. The guy screamed, but held his breath, as the young woman grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him down, close to her face. Eskel got a glimpse at her eyes and was taken aback by the verocity in it.

„Try that once more, and I'll rip off your dick and nail. It. To. Your. Head.“, she said slowly. Her voice was calm, but there was something else waiting behind it that was dangerous. The man whimpered and stepped back. Priscilla's father had finally come to his senses. „That's mah inn, milord! MAH INN! What have you done to my daughter!“, he yelled, and tried to get trough to the young lord, but two of the men grabbed him by the arms and held him back.

Barnaby, who was the only one still sitting, sneered. „You old fool. It's not my fault that your daughter's so prudish! We were just having fun! Nobody touched her! No need to make such a fuss.“ He raised an eyebrow and threw his friends a meaningful look. „Besides, she's really pretty! Wouldn't be surprised if you already ploughed her yourself.“ Laughter erupted again, louder than before, while Priscilla cried even harder. Her father had gone so white in the face that Eskel thought he'd drop every moment from shock. The young lord, however, saw none of that – he was too busy enjoying his friends' admiration.

Until Juka swung around and slapped him hard in the face.

 

The room fell silent at once.

The young lord, whose cheek was turning a flaming red already, with marks where Juka's fingers had hit him – she must have put some real force in that blow, Eskel thought – layed a hand on his cheek and stood up. He made a step towards Juka. She flinched, but stood her ground, crouching and balling her hands into fists.

„Bitch.“ The word came out as a hiss. „You fucking, bloody, stupid, ugly bitch. You will regret that. You will. Get her, lads!“, he screamed now, his voice tumbling and turning into a hysterical shriek, „give that stinking half-blood what she deserves!“

Eskel stood up. All eyes were on him in an instant as he walked over.

„No. You won't“, he said calmly, „and if I were you, I would take these insults back and try to apologise.“ He had drawn himself up to full height, and Barnaby had to look up to him. The young man registered that. Still, he didn't back down.

„Do you think I'm afraid of you, mutant?“

Eskel crossed his arms, showing off the burns on his forearms. „I do. Any guy who sets his henchmen to deal with a woman is a coward.“

Barnaby made a tiny step back. „You're only feeling so great because of the swords on your back!“, he sneered, „take them off and we'll see who's a coward!“

Eskel responded with a malicious grin. The young lord made another step back.

„No problem. I'll take them off.“ He unfastened the sword belt and waved Juka forward. „Take them and place them behind the counter, please. Take Priscilla and her father, too.“

She cast him a questioning look, her eyes big and fearful but he shook his head. She nodded, grabbed the blonde girl's arm and dragged her away. Priscilla's father followed them, putting an arm around his sobbing daughter.

The young lord's arrogance returned in an instant. „A coward indeed!“, he jeered, „you still hope she will fuck you, right, Witcher? She does it for free! She's been a whore before!“ He threw a nasty look in Juka's direction, but Eskel didn't bother to look around.

„Or maybe“, now the young man came a step closer, a nasty grin on his face, „maybe you _did_ ask for a fuck. Have spoken to her long enough. But she refused. Can't even blame her. I mean – look at your ugly face. Bet you'll have to pay the whores double!“ He cackled and waved his hands. The other men drew swords and daggers and started to closed in around the Witcher. The halfling mother screamed and ducked under the table, forcing her two children to her side. The old merchant and his whores retreated upstairs in a flash.

Eskel raised an eyebrow.

Then he acted.

In the blink of an eye, he performed the  _ Aard  _ sign – everybody around him was knocked backwards. Several people crashed into furniture. The Witcher grabbed the young lord by the lapels and lifted him up, so that the young man's feet were dangling above the ground. Priscilla screamed again. Her fiancé gasped and tried to pry the Witcher's fingers loose. It didn't work. 

Eskel brought his face real close to Barnaby's, enjoying the look of disgust on the young man's face. „Your manners leave much to be desired, my lord“, he hissed. „First of all, don't insult strangers if you don't know who they are. Could end badly. Especially if these strangers had a bad day. Like me.

Second, only louts insult women. Are you a lout, my lord?“ He raised the young man a little higher. Barnaby choked and shook his head a couple of times.

„No? Fine. That's a relief. I'd be terrible sorry if the future lord of this realm didn't know how to behave himself.“

„I'm – so-ry ...“ The young lord's face had turned a slight shade of red. Eskel loosened his grip a tiny bit to ease his breathing.

„So, if I let you down now …“, Eskel faked musing this for a moment, „... will you promise to go home now and to come back later to apologise?“ He swung the young man slightly to the side, so that the counter came into the view; The innkeep still had an arm about Priscilla, who had a hand clasped over her mouth and stared at the scene in horror; Juka was standing a bit on the side, a grim look on her face. She still hadn't let go of Eskel's swords.

„Yes“ the word came out in a whisper. Eskel set Barnaby down. „One more thing“, he murmured confidentally, putting his arm around the young lord's shoulder, „if I were to be married, I'd never display my future wife's breasts in public. And _I_ think that it would add greatly to your marital happiness if you apologised to her, too. First thing tomorrow morning.“

„I will do that, Master Witcher“, Priscilla's fiancé whispered.

„Alright then.“

Eskel let go; Barnaby staggered a few steps back, clutching his throat.

For a moment, everything was silent.

„What are you waiting for?“, the young lord finally growled, „let's go!“

 

Eskel watched them go one by one. A small smile played around the corner of his mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

Finally, they were gone.

 _I should be leaving, too_ . _That was more than enough trouble._

Eskel turned to the counter and went to get his swords. The inkeep didn't look at him, but busied himself with wiping the counter again; Priscilla, however, wasn't standing next to her father anymore. She sat in a corner, snuggling up against a middle-aged woman who apparently had just entered the taproom. She embraced the younger woman, stroking her blonde her and making comforting sounds. Then she looked up at Eskel.

 _Must be Priscilla's mother_.

It had to be – the similarity the two of them was striking. Priscilla's mother was still beautiful – she must have been stunning when she was her daughter's age. Her hair, already streaked with grey, was wound into two neat braids. She wore a simple green dress with long sleeves, and had big, grey eyes.

„Thank you so much“, she said simply, her voice calm and steady. Eskel bowed his head.

„It was no trouble at all. I only hope your family hasn't been harmed.“

He turned to look at Juka.

„My swords, if you please. I will leave now.“

„You're leaving?“ Priscilla's mother looked at him, „that's quite the surprise! Please, stay. We owe you a lot.“

„I can't. I have caused enough trouble around here, and I still need to get to the next village tonight, to find a place to sleep. Don't want to get caught up in trouble on the way, I'm starting to feel tired.“

She eyed him. „Is our house not good enough for a Witcher to sleep in?“

Eskel gave her a small smile. „I would have liked to stay for the night, but your husband has told me that all the rooms are taken. Therefore, I'll take my leave. It will mean more trouble for you if I stay here longer, too.“

The inkeep's wife looked at her husband, who didn't meet her eyes.

„I think, you are mistaken“, she said, her voice casual, „in fact, you are to have the best bed in this house, and you are welcome to stay as long as you like. Juka, please show him his room.“

 

Juka nodded, shoving the swords over the counter. „If you will follow me, Master Witcher.“

She nodded over to an open door that led to a flight of stairs. Eskel followed her.

„If that's alright with you, I am going to check on my horse first“, he said as soon as they had left the taproom. „Just to make sure that these bastards didn't try anything funny.“

Juka nodded. „Of course. We can go this way, that's faster“, she said, turning to a small door on the right. She hadn't looked at him since he had thrown out Barnaby.

He brushed it off. Naturally, she was afraid.

 _Never mattered anyway_.

 

The small door led directly to the stable, and Eskel spotted Scorpion at once. The stallion had been fed and watered, and although the stable boy was nowhere to be seen, the Witcher was pleased to see that the box of his horse was clean and the straw dry.

„You're riding a Kaedweni?“ Eskel turned his head.

Juka was standing next to him, looking at Scorpion with a look of acknowledgement.

The Witcher nodded. „Yes. He's a thoroughbred Kaedweni. You know about horses?“

The young woman took a step closer to the box. „You bet. My father was a blacksmith, and crazy about horses. Whenever he shoed a horse, he pointed out the different features to me, explained the races. He enjoyed chatting with the owners a lot. I never shared his enthusiasm, which was a bit of a disappointment for him. But I know about horses, yes. And I like them well enough.“

„Funny. I always thought gnomes only rode ponys – if they ride at all. Thought they prefer walking.“ The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

_Dammit, Eskel. Now you've made a complete ass of yourself for sure._

Juka looked at him.

„I am sorry“. Eskel rubbed his scarred cheek, feeling embarrassed. „I heard all that talk earlier and … made a guess. Forgive me.“

She gave a little snort. „Was a lucky guess then. Yes, I'm half gnome and half human. My father was a gnomish blacksmith back in Mahakam.“

She went over to a barrel and came back, holding two apples in her hand. Setting one of the apples in the middle of her palm, she raised her hand to offer the fruit to Scorpion.

Before the horse could get near the fruit, Eskel intervened, reaching out and touching her forearm softly.

„I don't know if that's such a good idea, to be honest“, he warned, „Scorpion is a war horse. He's quite picky about who gets near him.“

Juka gave him a lopsided grin. „So he resembles his master?“ She reached out again and presented the horse with the apple; the stallion sniffed at the fruit before it took it and started munching. „Don't worry, Master Witcher“, she said, gazing at Scorpion with a soft look in her eyes, „animals like me. And I like them.“ She stroked the horse's nose. „Yes, you're a good one“, she murmured, patting the stallion's neck, „beautiful, too. Good boy.“ Scorpion gave a little snort and nugded her arm, obviously eager for the second apple. She pocketed the fruit, patted the horse's nose again.

Eskel had to smile. „You're lucky he lets you touch him“, he said, „he doesn't like people, generally“, he said, giving Scorpion a pat as well, „he needs time to adjust to others. Usually, that's quite the problem when we're in an inn, because he won't accept the stable boy. So I like to lead him into the box myself.“

„So he _does_ resemble his master.“ Juka grinned again.

Eskel chuckled. „In a way, you're right. I need time to adjust to new people, too. But usually, that doesn't happen while I'm at an inn.“

She gave a silent laugh. „Pity that your room will be on the top floor. I would pay quite a bit of coin to watch the horse lead you into the room.“

Eskel cleared his throat. „Since we are talking about adjusting to people … I am sorry if I scared you back there. That wasn't my intention. As I said, you're the first friendly person that I have met in days. And you were very brave as well. Not many people would have stepped in.“

Juka blushed a bit. „I wouldn't call that bravery“, she mumbled, „I only did what needed to be done. And then my temper got the better of me.“ She gave him an earnest look. „I wish I hadn't slapped Barnaby in the face, to be honest. This will mean only more trouble on the morrow.“

Eskel shook his head. „He won't make trouble while I'm here.“

„Then you're planning to stay?“

_Sounds like she is pleasently surprised ... Oh, don't kid yourself, Eskel. She's probably just being polite._

He shrugged, making a point of keeping his face neutral. „At least until tomrrow. I need to think about where to go next.“

„Mhm.“ The young woman seemed to think for a moment, tapping the tip of her nose with a fingertip.

„What?“

„I'm just thinking … There were rumours about something stalking the nearby woods. Travelers talked about that last week, but I can't remember what they said … There was talk about it earlier today, too, but I only heard bits and pieces while I was in the taproom.“ She looked up to him. „You could ask my mistress in the morning, if you like, Master Witcher. She went to the market in the village yesterday, if there _is_ something lurking nearby, she is bound to have heard the rumours.“

 

Eskel nodded. „Thanks! I'll sure do that. And please“, he added, „stop calling me that. My name's Eskel. Just Eskel.“

She gave him a full smile. Again, the smile was warm, and she looked nothing but happy.

„Eskel“, she repeated, „that's a good name. Suits you, too.“

She nodded as if to come to a conclusion. „Alright, Eskel, it's getting late, and I'm sure that you finally want some rest. Before I bring you to your room though … I'll show you something else first.“ She winked at him.

Eskel managed to regain control over his features a moment too late – surely, she had seen his utter surprise. „Show me … what?“

She only shook hear head and waved him to the far corner of the stable. Eskel followed her, his mind racing.

Juka stopped in front of an old box. She climbed over the egde and hugged the small old donkey that stood right in the middle, chewing a mouthful of hay. „This“, she said proudly, scratching the donkey lovingly behind the ears and smiling at Eskel, „is _my_ noble steed. He once belonged to my father, and although he is not very fast, he has the sweetest temper and is quite smart.

Master Witcher – Eskel – please. Meet Apolonius.“


	8. Chapter 8

Eskel didn't quite manage to limit the grin to the good side of his face.

„Apolonius, eh?“ He chuckled and reached out to stroke the donkey's nose. „Quite handsome, for an ass.“

Juka nodded happily, then reached into her pocket and pulled out the second apple. Nudging the donkey's nose out of the way, she handed the fruit to Eskel.

„If you want to make a new friend for life, give him this. He's crazy about them.“ She winked.

Eskel took the apple, petting one of the donkey's long ears. „Who came up with that name, by the way?“

„My father did“, the half-gnome answered. Her eyes gleamed. „A few years ago, a priest came into our village. You know the cult of the Eternal Flame?“

The Witcher nodded. „Sure.“

Juka grinned, raising her eyebrow meaningfully. „The priest held a very long speech, took ages. Mostly rambled on and on about the gnomish and dwarvish heathens who should finally seek rescue and come to the light of the Eternal Flame ...“ She rolled her eyes.

„In the middle of the speech, my father stands up. He stumbles to the front, sinks to his knees, and starts wailing about how he has led a sinful life and now has seen his errors. The priest was delighted of course, and he almost burst with pride when my father asked him to name the newest member of the household in public.“

 _She looks truly gnomish now. That mischievous grin really suits her_.

Eskel nodded. „And?“

„Well … My father returns with the donkey in tow, and the priest almost dies from shock. Went white as snow, and was lost for words. He left. And my father mounted the donkey, rode up behind him and shouted: „But your holiness, it would be such an _honour_! The donkey looks _just like you_!“ Eskel chuckled.

Juka stroked Apolonius' fur. „My father was a great man“, she said, smiling sadly. There was a moment of silence.

Finally, Juka gave the donkey a last hug, then climbed out of the box and brushed a bit of straw from her trousers.

„Come on now“; she said, „I'm going to show you your room now. It's late enough.“

 

Together, they climbed the stairs and trotted through a small corridor. Juka stopped in front of the last door to the left.

„Your room“, she said, opening the door and letting him enter first.

Eskel looked around. The room was large, the bed offering enough space for two. Everything seemed clean and orderly.

„That is … beautiful“, he said slowly, while turning around to face Juka, who leant in the door frame, her arms crossed. „But it's also a bit big. Surely I don't need so much room for one night. Also can't pay that much as well.“

The young woman shook her head. „I'd be very surprised if you needed to pay for the room“, she answered casually, „you heard my mistress. You saved Priscilla tonight, and are welcome as long as you like.“ She went over to a table standing in front of one of the windows and lit the candle that was placed in the window sill. Then she pointed to a bowl and a carafe of water next to the candle.

„Water for you. When would you like to get up?“

Eskel shook his head. „Oh, very early. At sunrise, probably. But you don't need to wake me up or something. I'll be off before you know it.“

„We will see.“ Juka nodded and went to the door. As she had done earlier in the evening, she bowed her head. „If there is anything else, don't hesitate to ask. Would you like to take a bath in the morning?“

„That won't be necessary“, Eskel smiled, „But ...“

„Yes?“ Her eyes seemed big now.

„I know it's late but … Could you heat me up a small bowl with water, please? That would be great.“

Juka's expression went from surprise to mockery in a flash. „You shave? Now?“ Before he could answer, she pressed her lips together and looked to the floor. „Excuse me. That's none of my business.“

Eskel raised his eyebrows in amusement. „No, I don't. But I've got a wound that needs cleaning. Hot water is best for that.“

Juka scratched herself behind the right ear and nodded. „Of course. Would you like me to put some camomile in it, too? It will help keeping the wound free from infection and sooth.“

The Witcher smiled. „That's kind of you, but no. I have everything I need with me.“

„As you please.“, she looked at him, smiled back.

„Sleep well, Eskel. Good night.“

The lock clicked as she closed the door behind her quietly.

 

Eskel took another look around, his eyes adjusting to the dark instinctively. The room was indeed big – fit for two people, and with a beautiful view over the nearby meadows. In front of the table, there was a chair – next to the bed stood a three-leged stool. He unbuckled his swordbelt and propped the swords next to the bed against the nightstand, then pulled off his gauntlets and placed them on top of the table. Taking off his jacket and hanging it over the chair, he stretched himself and yawned heartily.

_Man. Thought this day would last forever._

He pulled off his shirt and threw it on the bed, then examined the slash on his upper arm once more. The wound seemed to heal already.

 _Better make sure that nothing funny happens though_.

 

There was a soft knock on the door. Eskel grabbed his shirt – _no need to embarrass her –_ but the doorknob didn't turn. He waited for another moment, listening to the soft sound of footsteps fading, until it had died completely. He opened the door – the hallway lay still and empty. A stoneware bowl had been placed on his doorstep, with a wooden tankard in it. The tankard was covered by a clean sheet of linen, feeling very warm to the touch. A small bundle of dried camomiles was laying on top of the cloth, among with a piece of paper. The Witcher picked it up, unfolded it.  
_„Just to be on the safe side.“_

 

Eskel took the bowl and placed it on the nightstand. Sitting down on the bed, he couldn't help but smile.

_Didn't end so badly after all._

He put the camomiles into the bowl, poured hot water over the herbs and began cleaning the wound.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the reader is asked to bear with Akhuna's antics a little longer ... Something will actually HAPPEN in two chapters from now on! Sorry folks, I always get carried away when I'm writing conversations! I hope you like it so far despite the lack of real action. ;)

Eskel woke at dawn. Stretching himself, he went over to the bowl on the table and poured the water from the decanter in it; after he had washed his face and brushed his teeth, he pulled the shirt over his head.

_Damn. Should've gotten the clean one out of the saddle back last night_ .

He thought for a moment. Pulling on his gauntlets and taking up his swords and jacket, he made his way down to the stable. Scorpion neighed softly as he opened the door to the box.

„We're not off yet, old boy. I just need something clean before I can show my ugly face in the taproom“.

Eskel gave the stallion a loving pat on the neck and went over to the saddle he had placed in the far corner of the box. Opening a small bag, he pulled out a fresh shirt and changed before he packed the old one away. As he bent over to check whether Scorpion had enough water left, the stallion nudged him on the shoulder.

„I don't have any apples, my friend. Gotta ask her if she has one more to spare for you.“ The horse snorted. „Yeah, I know. She's quite something, eh? Thanks for not biting her though. Rare enough that someone's so nice to the two of us.“

Giving Scorpion one last pat, he left the box and stretched himself. „Be back in a bit“, he promised the stallion, „just checking if there's some breakfast for you and me.“

Eskel was just about to open the door to the hallway as it opened already and an elderly man bumped into him.

„AGH!“

„Good morning to you, too“, Eskel replied drily.

„M-Master Witcher …“, the old man snatched the cap on his head and turned it in his fingers, „I … I hope you are happy with how I cared for your horse?“

Eskel nodded and tried to look as friendly and harmless as possible. „Yes, thank you. My horse needs water though … And a small bucket of oats, maybe.“

„Of-of course, Master Witcher“. The man squeezed past Eskel and stumbled to Scorpion's box.

Eskel caught a whiff of booze and watched his horse, but the stallion obviously wasn't in the mood to pick up a fight.

_Good. That would be the last thing I needed_ .

 

He pushed himself through the door and made his way to the taproom.

It seemed to be completely empty – but then he spottet Juka sitting crosslegged on one of the benches. Her head was bend over something and he could see her arms moving. Making one more step into the room, Eskel stepped on a loose floorboard. The old wood creaked. Juka lifted her head and semeed to look into the empty space for a moment – then, her gaze steadied and she got up, giving him a warm smile.

„Morning.“ She stretched herself and yawned heartily, not bothering to cover her mouth with her hand. „Did you sleep well?“

Eskel nodded, moving over to her table. „I did indeed. Thanks. Also for the water last night – and the camomile.“

Juka blushed a bit, but waved her hand dismissively. „Don't mention it. How's the wound?“

„Fine, thanks for asking. It's healing up nicely.“

Her face showed confusion. „I thought you said that this was a new wound. How-“

The Witcher smiled. „I heal fast.“

„Oh!“ The young woman fell silent for a moment, but recovered herself quickly. „Well … Would you like some breakfast?“

„That would be great.“

„Fine.“ she gestured to the bench on the opposite side of the table. „Please, have a seat. I'll get you something.“

She placed a small bundle on the table. „I'll be right back. And I'll clear  _this_ up in a minute, too.“

Eskel shook his head. „Don't worry. It doesn't disturb me.“

„Alright.“ She left and he could hear her entering the kitchen. A little while later, he heard a pot clanking. Eskel listened calmy, stretching his legs under the table.

_Gotta make up my mind whether I want to check out these rumours … After breakfast._

He looked up when he heard her footsteps approaching. She was carrying two bowls with spoons sticking in them.

_Funny how quickly THESE sounds became familiar in a way._

„There you go. I hope you like porridge?“ She set one of the bowl in front of him and placed the other one next to the small bundle. Before he could say anything, she was gone again, went over to the counter and came back to the table, two small mugs in her hands.

Giving him one of the mugs, she seated herself on the other side of the table and crossed her legs on the bench. She stiffled another yawn.

Eskel smiled. „You're up early, too. Didn't get much sleep last night?“

The young woman rolled her eyes and took up her spoon. Starting on the porridge, she shook her head. „No. First, the guests stayed up until really late … Apparently, someone's brother had died and they were drinking up the rest of the money ...“

„And then?“

„ _Then_ … This old geezer with his two whores kept me running until the dead of night. More wine, beer, honey ...“

„Honey?“ Eskel raised his eyebrows.

Juka closed her eyes for a moment, shook her head. „I didn't ask. I'd rather not know either. In the end, my master woke from all that racket and threatened to throw them out.“

Juka yawned again, covering her mouth this time. „The sky lightened in the east already, so I decided to start cleaning and scrubbing the benches and tables. And then I sat down to knit a little while.“

She gestured to the bundle on the table.

„Knitting, eh?“ He dug his spoon into the bowl and tried the porridge. It was thick with nuts and berries, and he recognised honey and some spices.

„Yes. It's Priscilla's wedding gift – her bridal shawl.“ Juka swallowed another portion of porridge.

„In Mahakam, it is custom to give the bride a shawl and a knife“, she smiled, pulling on one of her earrings, „but good knives are hard to come by here, and her parents objected to it anyway. So I just make her the shawl.“

Eskel furrowed his brow. „Curious wedding presents. Why-“

The door to the taproom opened, interrupting the conversation.


	10. Chapter 10

It was Priscilla. Again, Eskel realised how beautiful she was. Today, she wore a simple, brown dress which suited her complexion, and a simple apron over it. Her hair was neatly braided.

_Must be something elvish in her. Probably her mother's side_ .

Swiftly, Juka grabbed the shawl and moved it unto the bench. Following Priscilla (who was now making her way over to the bar) with her eyes, the half-gnome stuffed the fabric between her ankles, smiling innocently. Juka's attempt to be sneaky was unneccessary though, Eskel noticed – the blonde girl was obviously ignoring them.

_Probably doesn't want my face to ruin her day._

He could see her examining the tankards, picking one up, then another, looking surprised. Finally, she wiped her hands on the apron and gave their table a questioning look.

„Juka? Can I have a word?“

Juka looked at Eskel, but nodded and got up, pulling her knitting from her lap and putting it next to her on the bench. „Have you finished?“

„Yes – that was really good. Thanks.“

Taking Eskel's and her own empty bowl with her, Juka went over to the counter.

„When did you clean all this?“, he heard Priscilla ask.

„Last night – I couldn't sleep, and the old geezer kept me up half the night, until your father stepped in. It was too late to go to bed, so I came down to start with the cleaning. I scrubbed the tankards with sand; they should be fine.“

„Oh Juka ...“, Priscilla sounded moved, „and … you cleaned the tables as well?“ she went over to the corner of the counter, fetching an old-looking broom that had been stored behind the barrels.

 

Eskel crossed his arms and stretched his legs under the table. A beam of sunlight flooded into the room, warming his back. It was comfortable. He closed his eyes for a moment.

 

„Yes“, he heard Juka say, who had been following Priscilla over to the corner, „scrubbed the tables, and the counter, wiped down the benches. The only thing I didn't get done was the floor – I was almost falling asleep standing up, so I sat down for a bit. Then he turned up, so I made breakfast. Want to join us? There's still porridge left in the kettle.“

„Oh … No. I don't, Juka“. Priscilla was speaking low now, almost whispering, „I … _how_ can you stand him, Juka? He's so creepy!“

„He's not creepy.“

„His eyes are creepy. They look exactly like the eyes of a cat!“

„I like cats.“

 

Eskel made sure his eyes stayed closed.

 

„He only stares and hardly said anything yesterday!“

„What do you expect him to do? Break into a tapdance in the middle of the inn, singing the ballad of the Kingfisher Who Fell Into the Loo? He's probably used to be alone, besides, some people simply are not talkative.“

„And then his face ...“

Juka growled silently. Eskel opened one of his eyes and glanced at the two young women. The half-gnome had raised her hands, obviously annoyed now.

„Priscilla. He's a _Witcher_. He gets paid to fight _monsters_. That's bound to leave some marks. I really don't know what's your problem.“

„Aren't you frightened of him at all?“

„No. He's polite, has really good manners, got a really nice voice, he's pleasant and friendly and good company, I suppose.

Besides, ….“ Juka's voice trailed off, her words fading into a mumble Eskel couldn't understand.

 

_Wonder what she said now …_

„Really? You really find him _attractive_?“

… _Oh._

 

There was no way he could fake sleep now. Eskel looked up, utterly surprised. Like on the night before, Juka had blushed deeply.

 

„That's … that's not what I said. I _said_ his scars would be considered attractive in Mahakam. Means that he's a great fighter and can take care of himself.“

„How do you know?“

„Simple. He lives to tell the tale.“

„But Juka“, Priscilla looked at Eskel, sounding giddy now, „you _are_ from Mahakam! So you _do-_ “

„YES, fine!“, Juka retorted angrily, blushing deeper than ever, „maybe you can make the round, tell everybody! Tell your mother he wanted to talk to her about these monster rumours. I'll be in the stable.“

 

The door to the taproom slammed. For a moment, Eskel and Priscilla looked at each other – he was stunned, she looked a bit remorseful.

„Excuse me, Master Witcher. I will go and fetch my mother to talk to you“, she said at last, wiping her hands on her apron and leaving Eskel alone with his confusion.

 

Before he could make up his mind whether he should follow Juka into the stable or leave her alone, Priscilla's mother entered the taproom. She walked up to his table and bowed her head, giving him a smile. “Good morning, Master Witcher. I hope that the room is to your liking and that you have slept well.”

Eskel, who had stood up as soon as she had come nearer, gave a light bow in return. “I have, thanks to you. Thank you so much for your generosity, it was more than I deserved, truly.”

He made a gesture to the bank where Juka had sat. “Please ...”

She accepted, giving him a friendly nod. Eskel sat down again, too, not quite knowing where to begin. Before he could say something, she started to speak.

“My daughter has told me that you are interested in ridding us of the monster that is lurking in the swamps nearby?”

“Yes”, he cleared his throat, “Juka told me that there have been some rumours about it and that you might know more about them, since you went to the market yesterday. It would be interesting to know if there is a contract for it, so I can do something about it.”

She gave him a look.

“You couldn't do it without the coin?”

Eskel gave her his small smile.

“I could, of course”, he said, keeping his tone polite, “but slaying monsters is my profession. If I would do it for free, I would go hungry in a fortnight, I guess.”

Priscilla's mother nodded again, her expression softer this time, “of course, Master Witcher. Forgive me. The swamps are near the road to the village, and our guests and the young people use this road frequently.

Yes, there have indeed been rumours, and more than that. Two men have disappeared – they were on their way to the inn, so they cannot have been too drunk to wander off the road”, she said, as he opened his mouth to say something, “one was a regular guest, who comes to play dice with his friends every other day – when he didn't show up, the others went mad, then worried. They haven't found his body yet.”

Eskel crossed his arms, leaning forward.

“And the other victim?”

“The other man was a stranger who was passing through. Apparently, he had asked for directions to the inn, but never got here. At first, my husband thought that the man had simply changed his mind”, Eskel nodded, “but when I went to the market yesterday, I heard that they have found _bones_ near the road. Human bones, apparently. And there have been strange noises near the village at night, too … Screeching noises.”

She shuddered. Eskel narrowed his eyes.

_Sounds weird indeed._

“It would be wonderful if you could do something about it”, she continued, “the sooner the better, to be honest. If we can help you out in any way, we will do that – you can keep this room as long as you like, and you will sleep and eat here for free.”

Eskel shook his head, smiling. “That is very kind of you, but it's unneccessary. I'd like to stay, if there is a contract, but I can move to a smaller room and I can pay for food and drink, too.”

Priscilla's mother looked at him earnestly. “I am serious, Master Witcher. Please, do something about it. There is this big dance in the village, and all the young people are excited to go, my daughter especially. Juka will be there as well”, she threw him a meaningful look that made Eskel thankful that he couldn't blush, “and I would be overjoyed and would sleep better if I could be sure that nothing will be lurking on the girls' way to and fro the dance.”

The door opened, revealing two of the old men Eskel had seen the evening before. Priscilla's mother stood up, waving them in and looked at the Witcher once more.

“I have to serve guests now. Please, speak to the reeve, Master Witcher. He will have all the information you need. You find him in the red house, at the market place.

Eskel rose as well, bowing lightly. “Thank you very much. I will go to the village now and call on him.”

Giving him a last friendly bow of the head, Priscilla's mother turned to the old men, who requested beer and breakfast.

 

Eskel straightened his shoulders and made his way to the stable.

_Wonder if she's still there. Let's just hope that this won't be too awkward for any of us._


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eskel leaves the inn. Brace yourselves.

Juka was still there. Standing with her back to the door, she was shovelling old straw and manure into a simple wheelbarrow with a pitchfork. It was a bit too big for her, Eskel noticed, but she managed well, shovelling the stinking straw and the dung into it with force.

_Don't want to disturb her now – she probably won't be too keen on talking to me. I don't have a clue what to say to her anyway._

 

He went to Scorpion's box and tried to open it quietly, but the horse whinnied, and Juka turned. Eskel gave her a nod and a smile, then led Scorpion out of his box. The stallion seemed to be thrilled for the opportunity to stretch his legs – he snorted and stomped, pulling on the reigns and trying to get near the apple barrel.

Eskel pushed his shoulder against the horse, grabbing the snaffle and pulling Scorpion away.

“NO, you're not messing around with these apples! Get off, you greedy-”

“He can have another one, no problem.” Juka had appeared at Scorpion's side. She went over to the barrel and fetched two apples, handing them both to the Witcher. “It's fine. Just don't tell on me, please”, she had kept her head down the whole time and didn't look at him now, “I might get into trouble.”

Eskel nodded.

_She can't SEE that, stupid. You GOTTA say something, COME ON!_

He cleared his throat.

“Priscilla fetched her mother and I spoke to your mistress. I am going to talk with the reeve – maybe there'll be a contract for me that's lucrative enough to get me out of Velen shortly.”

_Oh GREAT. Somebody gut me right now._

Juka nodded, her face neutral. “Sounds good. Good luck with the reeve – he's got terrible manners, but he's a good man. I wish you a fair trade and a full purse.” She bowed and returned to her pitchfork.

Eskel swore under his breath, then followed her. “Juka, could I …”

She set down the pitchfork and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don't wait too long”, she said matter-of-fact, “the reeve will eat his lunch early and then probably starts drinking if nobody has turned up until then. You'd better hurry – you'll need about half an hour on horseback to the village.” She gave him another nod and continued to shovel the manure. Her cheeks had streaks of dirt on them and she was standing up to her ankles in horse shit.

_THAT went well._

Eskel returned to his horse, saddled Scorpion as fast as he could and was off.

_Thank the Gods that Lambert didn't see that. He'd be laughing for a month._

 

After a little while, his spirits lifted a bit. The rain had stopped and the air, although still damp, was warmer. Scorpion trotted through a couple of puddles, obviously happy to be outside again, and the stallion's good mood was contagious.

_I'll apologise tonight when I get back to the inn. I'll just tell her that I was surprised and didn't quite know what to say._

A beautiful meadow opened up before him. Eskel brought Scorpion to a halt and dismounted.

“Let's stop for a bit, my friend. Gotta blow off some steam,. If the reeve is drunk by the time we get there”, he gave the horse a slap on the back, “we'll hold his head into a waterbucket, eh?”

Scorpion whinnied and nudged him on the shoulder, snorting.

Unsheathing his sword, Eskel walked until he had put some distance between the stallion and him. The Witcher closed his eyes for a moment, concentrated. Bringing his sword into a riposte, he started his training session.

 

An hour later, the village came into sight.

_Nothing weird to be heard so far … But maybe the creature only strikes at night. IF it exists at all._

Eskel pulled on Scorpion's reigns, bringing the stallion to a slower pace as he passed various people. Ignoring the stares, he concentrated on his surroundings, searching for the reeve's house.

_That's got to be it._

 

Eskel tied the stallion to a nearby post and knocked.

Nothing happened.

_Bit too late, am I?_

He knocked again, longer this time. An old woman opened the door.

“ _Yes?!”_

Eskel sighed internally.

_Great. The whole house must stink to the high heavens of garlic._

She eyed him suspiciously as he bowed his head politely.

“Good day. Might I speak to the reeve?”

“What?”

_Gods, no. Don't let her be deaf._

He raised his voice.

“I said _Good Day!_ Might I speak to the _reeve_?”

Two middle-aged women passing by looked at him.

“I DON'T HEAR YOU, YOUNG MAN!”

Eskel rolled his eyes. “THE REEVE! MAY I PLEASE SPEAK TO HIM!”

One of the women giggled.

_Day is getting better and better._

“What do you want?” She didn't move at all. If possible, her gaze became even more suspicious.

_Trying to sell him some buttons._

Eskel straightened his shoulders, adjusting the swords with a shrug. “There have been rumours about a monster in the swamp. I could deal with it.”

“WHAT?”

“I'M HERE ABOUT THE SWAMP MONSTER!”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you? Some sort of knight?”

_No. I'm a halfling fighting for the Scoia'tael_ .

Eskel raised an eyebrow. “I am a WITCHER” He bent down, coming face to face with her.

“See my eyes?”

She recoiled from him at once. “Do not try anything funny, young man!”

_Awww … Damn._

Eskel gritted his teeth. “Madam, I am a Witcher. I'm staying at the inn half an hour away from this village. There has been talk about a monster in the swamp. Now, _will_ you bring me to the reeve so I can talk to him about it?”

“WHAT WERE YOU SAYING?”

 

Eskel had enough. Quickly checking that nobody was around, he perfomed _Axii._ The old woman's face softened at once. “Please madam. I am the Witcher who is hear about the swamp monster contract. You will bring me to the reeve directly.” The last sentence didn't come out very politely, but Eskel didn't care.

“Of course”, she answered, giving him a mild smile, “follow me please, Master Witcher.”

_Finally._

 

Sighing again, this time with relief, Eskel stepped inside.

They went through a dark hallway. The Witcher spotted several pictures showing various people, none of them looking very friendly. He had always been wondering why people were putting up portraits of ancestors on their walls when these ancestors didn't seem to have a good opinion of their heirs. Shaking his head, he followed the old woman to the last door on the right. She knocked on the door, then opened it without waiting for a reaction.

 

“The Witcher for the Swamp Monster, Cecil.”

Eskel bit on his lip to keep himself from grinning.

The reeve looked up. He was a middle-aged man with a saggy face, obviously well on his way to grow fat. The tip of his nose was reddish, so Juka's comment about his drinking habit had been accurate as well – yet, the man's eyes were focused and clear, as he looked at the old woman and Eskel behind her.

 

“Thank you, Walda. I will speak to our guest alone.” He gave her a corteous nod and she smiled stupidly in return, before passing Eskel and leaving.

“Close the door, Witcher.”

Eskel nodded, stepping closer to the table at which the reeve was sitting. The man leant back in his seat, poured wine into a simple goblet which he pushed towards Eskel.

“What did you do to my housekeeper? She has orders not to let anybody in when I have my lunch.”

Eskel shrugged, sat down. “I … asked politely.”

“Mhm.”

The reeve nodded and crossed his arms. “I think I know why you're here, Witcher.”

Eskel took the goblet and drank. The wine was not bad, but too sweet for his taste. “So the rumours about the bones and the bodies and the noises at night are true?”

“I'll be damned, but yes.”, the reeve drained his own goblet in one go and filled it anew, “nothing else to be found with that first chap. The bones were white as snow. _Licked_ clean, by the look of it. And the other guy … Well, who knows where whatever-it-is took him.” He drained another goblet.

Eskel scratched himself behind the ear, then leant forward. “I could do something about it – if the price is right.”

“Ah yes. The price. Witchers don't do anything without the coin.” the reeve spit on the floor.

The Witcher raised an eyebrow. “The blacksmith won't shoe a horse for a good word.”, he answered drily, “and I have yet to meet a whore who will fuck you for a bunch of flowers.”

The man looked at him, stunned for a moment. Then he let out a booming laughter.

“I like you, Witcher. Come”, he gestured towards Eskel's goblet, “drink up. We're gonna talk business now.”


	12. Chapter 12

“This will be pretty interesting”, Eskel told Scorpion on their way back to the inn. The sun was shining, the air was warming up. “Couple of options open here. Could be a Kikimore, but they would drag the bodies back into the nest for the queen to feed on. Could be a bloedzuiger too, but that wouldn't explain the bones … Waterhag … probably not, not enough water around here. Not enough darkness during the day for an arachnomorph either. Foglings would be an option … Or Ghoules …”

 

Deep in thought, the Witcher let his horse lead the way to the inn. Since he had taken a good look at the surroundings, morning and noon had passed when they arrived.

_Curious what will creep out when dusk falls._

 

Opening the gate to the box with a kick of his boot, Eskel placed the saddle in the far corner. The straw, he noticed, had been replaced, the water bucket was filled with fresh water and there was a new supply of oats waiting for the stallion. Juka was nowhere to be seen.

Relieving Scorpion of his bridle and throwing it next to the saddle, Eskel pulled out an old horse brush from one of the saddle bags. The stallion snorted, but stood still as the Witcher groomed him patiently.

“Gotta get some rest, my friend. We're gonna be up all night, the way it seems, starting in a few hours. I wonder how long the two of us will stay out in these murky waters ...”

Picking up the saddlebag and giving Scoprion a last pat on the neck, Eskel stepped out of the box and closed the gate behind him. He stretched, then went over to Apolonius' box. The donkey gave him a sage, friendly look, chewing on something orange.

“Don't have an idea where to find her, eh?” he scratched the donkey between the ears. Apolonius continued to chew and stare. He twitched his left ear and swatted a fly with his tail.

“Alright. Just an idea.”

 

Once he had entered the taproom, Eskel went straight to the counter. Priscilla's father set down the tankard he had been cleaning.

“Good evening, Master Witcher!” The old man tried a polite smile.

_Much friendlier now that your wife told you to be nice._

 

Eskel nodded. “Yes, thank you for asking. I have spoken to the reeve, as your wife suggested – it seems that this is worth looking into.”

“Glad to hear it.” The inkeep continued to rub on a smudge on the tankard.

“Me, too. Could I grab a bite to eat? I will be out at dusk, taking a look around and seeing what I am dealing with exactly.”

“Of course, Master Witcher. My wife will bring you something.”

Eskel bowed his head lightly and went to sit on the table he had been sitting yesterday evening. He sat the saddleba next to him on the bench and made a mental list, going through the ingredients stored in there.

_Better take some potions with me. And oils … Pity that I couldn't stock up last time on that, but there should be enough left. Necrophage is running pretty low, though._

 

His thoughts were interrupted by Priscilla's mother, who set a tankard with beer and a large bowl of stew in front of him. Sitting down on the other side of the table, she waited a few minutes, until she adressed him, and they exchanged a few unimportant, polite pleasentries.

Finally, Eskel pushed the bowl back and leant back on the bench. “That was an interesting visit this morning”, he said, taking a sip of his beer, “the reeve has a … _peculiar_ personality.”

“My husband told me that you will indeed help us?”, she said, smiling at him.

Eskel nodded, crossing his arms. “Yes. We agreed on an acceptable price, and I will go out at dusk to get a better idea of the monster that slew these men.” He drained the remains of his tankard. “I will be in my room now, preparing for tonight. I would ask you to make sure that I will not be disturbed.”

Priscilla's mother bowed her head. “Of course, Master Witcher. Whatever you wish. Would you like to eat something before you go?”

Eskel chuckled. “Thank you, but no. I fight better on an empty stomach.” He smiled.

She stood up and took his bowl and tankard. “As you like. I can have Juka prepare something, if you change your mind.”

“If you see her”, Eskel rubbed the scar on his cheek, “could you thank her for refilling my horse's water and changing the straw?”

She winked at him. “She is asleep now, in case you have been wondering. That last night was really too much for her, and the last few days were very busy. She's a good girl, hardworking. I will tell her.”

Eskel got up as well, walking with her towards the door of the taproom. “Just out of interest … How long has she been here with you?”

“About a year, maybe a bit longer.” The inkeep's wife furrowed her brow, “she's a strange girl. One day, she appeared out of nowhere on our doorstep, asking for work. I remember that it wasn't quite busy that day, but she so looked hungry and lost and heartbroken somehow ... so we told her to clean the stable. She had this donkey with her, and she almost begged us to be allowed to keep him. As if this was a problem! My husband told her she could put him in one of the boxes if she changed the straw and tidied everything up … When he checked a couple of hours later, everything was as clean as it hadn't been in a long time. Juka has been here ever since”, she added.

Eskel nodded. “She told me that the donkey had been her father's.”

“We don't know much about her, to be honest. Only that she is from Mahakam. And that she is part gnomish … but we don't know anyhing about her family. Why she came here, I can't say … Velen really is not the best place for a young girl on her own.” She shuddered, setting bowl and tankard on the counter. “One thing is curious, though.”

“What would that be?”

“Her … Well …” Priscilla's mother glanced around her nervously, “we are simple people, Master Witcher. We have always lived here, my husband and I, so one cannot say that we are very experienced. But, tell me … How many half-gnomes are there?”

Eskel shrugged. “I don't know any. She is the first one I see. Why?”  
“Well ...” again, she glanced around her, wiping her hands on her apron.

_Like her daughter this morning._

“This may sound stupid”, Priscilla's mother said, “but … with all these stories about the Scoia'tael … One _does_ get a bit suspicious ...”

_Oh boy._

The Witcher shook his head. “I very much doubt that she would side with them. If she had wanted to join them, she would have done so. And I do not think that she would make a very good spy”, he added, seeing the look on the woman's face, “since everybody can see that she isn't fully human. I guess that people look at her quite closely and thus, she would be too easily recognised.

Ask me how I know”, he added, giving ther a meaningful look.

Priscilla's mother smiled and looked relieved. “Thank you for telling me this. We are all very fond of her.”

Eskel nodded, his hand on the door. “I can see why. I have found her to be very friendly.”

“Oh, absolutely. She is great with customers. Unless the costumers have bad-behaved children.” She winked at him again. “Well, don't let me disturb your preparations, Master Witcher. Good luck tonight.”

With a last bow of her head, she disappeared into the kitchen.


	13. Chapter 13

Eskel returned to his room, removing his gauntlets and swords and placing them on the bed. He sat the saddlebag on the table and had a look at the elixiers.

_Doesn't look too bad after all. That would have been be the icing on the cake ..._

He took a few of the small flasks out and put them next to the bag.

 _Should be sufficient_. _Now … For the rest …_

Glancing out of the window, he took off his jacket and threw it on the chair.

_Sun's pretty low already … No use for going to sleep now, I'll only be drowsy._

Eskel ignited the wood in the fireplace with _Igni_ , sat on the wooden floor, hands on the thighs. He smiled while he stared into the flames.

_'Follow the flames with your eyes' … Good old Papa Vesemir._

 

The old trick still worked. As a boy, he had been horrible at setting his mind at ease. The thoughts never seemed to stop, climbing on top of each other, until the frustration set in and made it yet harder to let go. He had come to dread the mediation sessions that were part of every Witcher's training and had in fact tried to skip them once or twice unsuccessfully. For weeks, Eskel had been forced to watch his peers falling into peaceful silence, while he was staring into the air, feeling stupid and restless and getting more and more angry with himself. Geralt had always teased him about it, and while he could abide the bantering of his favourite brother, the mocking of the other boys had angered him so much that there had been more than one occasion when Eskel had been so frustrated that he had buried himself in the library after dinner instead of roaming the woods with the others.

Finally, Vesemir had taken pity on him.

One day, as Eskel was sitting in the library again, reading Brother Adalbert's bestiary entry about Katakans for the umpteenth time, the old Witcher had come in and closed the book, reaching over Eskel's shoulder. Vesemir had instructed him to kneel in front of the fireplace and to look into the flames.

“Remember, Eskel”, the old Witcher had told him, as the young Witcher had crouched on the cold floor, feeling more stupid than he had that afternoon, “you're not too dumb to meditate. You're rather too smart, you've got too much on your mind all the time.”

Then Vesemir had instructed him to concentrate on the movement of the flames and to see whether there was a common motion within the fire.

It had worked. Focussing on something had made it easier for Eskel to relax, and Vesemir had made sure that there had been a small fire in the middle of the young Witcher apprentices during the next few mediation lessons.

 

Dusk had settled.

Eskel raised his head and got up from the floor. The fire had almost burned down – a whiff of smoke filled the room. Gathering his sword, the gauntlets and gear, he selected three of the little flasks and put them into the leather slings on his belt. Checking the leather belt on his thigh, he shoved a short, broad knife behind the strap. Finally, he took a rope of of the saddlebag, slung it over his shoulder, picked up the bag itself and made his way to the stable. He could hear laughter and the banter of several voices from the taproom, but didn't bother to go in.

Entering the stable, he could see that the horse was getting restless as well, as if the stallion had picked up his mood.

“Come, my friend. It's time. Gotta get going.”

As soon as he had led the stallion outside, Eskel threw the rope over the horn of the saddle. Then he gave the horse a light slap on the back. “Off we go.”

 

The shadows were getting longer, already licking at the walls of the inn. Fog was building up, slowly creeping over the meadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet and short, but I thought I'd feed you a little headcanon based on Eskel's "please DND" when you try to talk to him before the Battle of Kaer Morhen and he's meditating - and on Eskel mentioning that certain book when he meets Geralt. :)
> 
> Next chapters will be uploaded slower, as I have exams to study for! I'll keep writing though! Have a lovely weekend, everyone. I hope you still like it. :)


	14. Chapter 14

“Wait here.”

With a light pull on the reigns, Eskel brought Scorpion to a halt. Closing his eyes, he listened for a moment.  
  
_Right place. Something is sitting in that foggish soup._

Swiftly he dismounted, checked the position of the knife and adjusted the swords. He fingered the flasks on his belt for a moment, then selected the one in the middle. Uncorking the flask, he downed the elixier in one go.  
  
_Stuff always tastes like hell. Would be great if we could adjust that._

Unsheathing his silver sword, he slowly advanced in the direction of a group of trees to his right. “Sure. One spot in this damned part of swampish no man's land looking forresty and you'll get all kinds of vermin settling there...” The elixier already worked its way through his veins, he could feel the heat burning through his arms and hands, legs and feet. His heart was thumping fast in his chest. He felt warm. Very warm.  
  
_I'm in for a royal headache tomorrow. Great. Always hated that one._

He moved in a circle, slowly, crouching low, tapping his feet on the ground multiple times with every step. His senses, even more alert through the potion, finally noticed a difference in the depth of the soil underneath him.  
  
_Burrows._

Flaring his nostrils, he inhaled deeply.  
  
_That stench …._

A highpitched giggle reached his ears, a mad, hysterical call.  
  
_Nekker._

Eskel growled, slashing a mill with his sword. He made a few steps further, then jumped.  
  
_Here we go._

The Nekker appeared out of nowhere, coming at him from all sides, and he swung around, holding the sword in a riposte, counting quickly.  
  
_Seven. Sure. Would have been easy otherwise._  
  
Eskel stomped his foot, testing the ground beneath him.

_That would be a great end to this day – breaking into a Nekker burrow.  
_

The Nekker around him still cackled, screeched, feinted to slash at him with their claws, baring their teeth and hopping from one foot onto the other. Eskel moved swiftly, circling around and around, searching for the biggest, fiercest, that would lead the attack.

_Come on. Let's get this over with.  
_

The monsters closed in around him, but still, none of them attacked.

_Might pick one myself then. Let's go._

Eskel charged.

He decapitated the first two Nekker in one, big slash, then swung around and sank his sword deep into the belly of the Nekker behind him. The screeching was almost unbearable loud now.

_Run, you idiots! RUN!_

The Nekker recovered quickly from the shock that three of them were dead. Two Nekker attacked him from both sides at once, while a third one tried to jump in his face. Eskel's _Aard_ hit it right in the chest – the Nekker crashed into the nearest tree and sank to the ground, its head lolling to the side in an angle that wasn't natural anymore.

The Witcher turned to his right, kicking the Nekker next to him in the guts. The creature cackled, screetched, slashed out. He felt a sharp pain in his left thigh. Another Nekker had sunk its claws into his leg and bit.

Eskel roared, filled with pain and wrath, giving in to the red fog that started to build behind his eyes.

He didn't remember much afterwards.


	15. Chapter 15

When his thoughts cleared again, he was sitting on Scorpion's back. Behind him, tied to the saddle, were the heads of the seven Nekker, chopped off at the necks and tied roughly in a bundle. He felt sick. Hungover. His leg hurt like hell, his neck stung where the claws of the Nekker had managed to get to the flesh, and there was blood on his hands, but he didn't know if it was his own.  
  
Eskel wiped his brow with the back of his hand – it came out bloody and wet. Cold sweat was still building up on his face, and his stomach was churning. Leaning over to the side, the Witcher threw up heartily.  
  
_I need to get back. Sleep. Didn't I take that counter elixier?_

Behind his eyes, the Black was building up. He could already feel himself becoming light-headed.  
  
_I mustn't pass out on horseback._   
  
He forced himself to pull on Scorpion's reigns, then slid from the saddle. Hanging on to the horn of the saddle, he panted.

_How much further?_

Eskel blinked. He tried to stomp on the ground, to get his circulation going again, but it was no use. He took off his belt and fastened it roughly around the saddle bag – then he tried to uncork the flask on the right, which contained a clear liquid, but his hands were shaking too badly. Scorpion whinnied, nudged him on the shoulder.

“I'm alright, my friend. You've seen that … before ...”  
The stallion nudged him again, pushing him to the left. Eskel turned.

The Inn was already in sight, its walls illuminated by the sun.  
  
_Just a few steps more. You can do that. Come on!_

He stumbled forward. Two steps. Three.  
  
_This will work. Almost there._

He fell to the ground, his head burning now and his hands cramping into claws. Pushing himself up to all fours, he tried to get up again. His stomach was churning once more, and he tried to vomit a second time, but all he could taste was bile.

“ _OI!”_

Eskel raised his head. A small figure was approaching fast, running towards him. Juka's hair shone bright in the sun – it looked like her head was on fire. He tried to say something, but his head felt as if it would split any minute.

Then she was there, kneeling beside him, smelling of beer and garlic and onions, and she forced his chin up, so she could look in his face. Gasping with horror, she recoiled. He couldn't blame her – the elixier had given his face a greenish tone, his pupils probably were still big enough to almost swallow the irises and he was covered in blood and guts.

Then he felt a slap in the face.

“ _Don't you faint on me now!”_ , she bellowed, in the exact same tone she had used the other night on the halfling boy, “ _Don't you dare! UP you get! UP! UP! UP!”_

Slipping an arm under his left side, she tried to heave him up; it was difficult, but she somehow managed to bring him into a half-stand.

“Elixier… Clear liquid … On my belt ...”

“Alright.” he could feel her hand at his belly, patting on his side. Then her worried eyes filled his face.

“You're not wearing a belt, mate.” There was a thick accent in her voice, her face was a mask of worry.

“Tied it around the saddle bag …” Eskel panted now, the fever inside him rising, “next to the heads ...”

She looked at him, confused. “Heads? What heads?”

Then she turned around. Her scream rang in his ears.

“Please ...”

She swallowed audibly, but set him down again. “Alright, I …. I'll get it.”

He heard her mumble something he couldn't understand, but he didn't bother.

Juka was back fast, white in the face and shaking, but with a grim, determined look on her face. She forced the flask into Eskel's hands, but as before, he wasn't able to pull the cork. She took it back and opened the bottle for him.

“Open up wide”, she commanded, “head back!”

Her hands were shaking so badly that she dribbled a bit of liquid over his neck as she tipped the elixier into his mouth. It stung where it hit flesh, but Eskel didn't pay attention. He had worse things to worry about.

“Alright now, up we get again!”, he heard her say. “UP now! _UP_!”

Once more, they came to a half-stand – this time, Eskel could already put some weight on his feet again, the fog behind his eyes lifted, too. Slowly, they stumbled over to the Inn. The stable door stood ajar, and Juka kicked it open. She led him to Scorpion's box, and he sank into the straw and was already unconscious when she returned with his horse.


	16. Chapter 16

When he came to his senses, he was laying in his room, on the bed. His leg felt as if it was on fire and twice its usual size. He was aching all over. Pain raging behind his eyes.

_At least I took the counter elixier. Don't want to imagine how I'd feel without it._

“Where am I?” His voice sounded coarse, but speaking didn't increase the headache. Slowly, Eskel opened his eyes.

_Well, you've gotta be thankful for the little things …_

“Your room.” Juka came into view – turning his head, he could see that a new fire had been lit in the fireplace. A small copper kettle was sitting on an iron grille. He could smell herbs.

Lifting himself up on the elbows carefully, Eskel felt something damp slide from his face. He caught the cloth before it fell down, and examined it – it was a white linen cloth that had been dipped in cold water before. Now it was almost dry.

_I had a cloth on my forehead?_

The half-gnome snatched the cloth from him, blushing slightly. “Sorry for that”, she said, giving him a lopsided grin, “you were feverish, and I couldn' think of something else.”

_So THAT'S why the headache isn't worse.  
_

“That's … fine. How did I get here?” Eskel looked at her, truly confused, “ _you_ didn't carry me up, did you?”

Juka laughed silently. “No”, she responded, dipping the cloth into a tankard and wringing it out, “that would have been quite a sight, though.” She handed him the cloth and he wiped his face. “My master and the stable boy carried you up here”, she explained, “they came in after I had put your horse in the box and … well. You were quite cooperative, too, it wasn't that hard.”

_I could walk?_

Eskel furrowed his brow. Slowly, he adjusted his position, trying to sit up. Pain shot threw his leg and he gritted his teeth; he took the cloth and put it back on his forehead. The coolness felt nice against his skin.

“Weird. I don't remember any of that.”

She shook her head. “I bet you don't. You mumbled something, but nothing anybody could understand. They laid you down on the bed after I got rid of your jacket and -”

“Jacket?” At once, Eskel was alert, “where is it?” He was about to throw back the sheets and get up, but Juka put a hand on his left shoulder and pushed him firmly back into bed. At once, the pain burst open behind his eyes again.

_OUCH.  
_

“The jacket is downstairs, in the kitchen. Taking a bath in steaming hot water that has had a good splash of soap. And I wouldn't get out of bed just so”, she added, grinning, “at least not as long as I'm in here.”

Eskel looked at her, dumbstruck. “Why exactly?”

“Because your trousers are taking a bath in the same tub, too.”

“Oh.” Eskel needed a moment to process that. “Erm … _why_ did you wash my clothes? It was you, right?”

_She WASHED my clothes?  
_

The half-gnome sighed, then pulled up the three-legged stool and sat down. “Alright”, she said, “first of all, your trousers and jacket were smeared with blood and … _stuff_. I tried not to look at the mess too closely, to be honest – it stank like hell. Also, I didn't want to burn the sheets afterward.”

She winked at him. “Second”, she counted on her fingers, “as the men were getting you upstairs, your leg started bleeding. It didn't soak through, but there was blood trickling down your ankle. I asked my master to let me get a look at that, so we would know if we needed to call a healer.”

She furrowed her brow, tilting her head. “There was a wound, and it looked nasty, too. Did something bite your thigh?”

Eskel nodded. “You bet”, he said darkly.

“Well, whatever it was, the wound was looking nasty and it was pretty deep, too. No idea what kind of teeth cut through leather … But … yeah. I pulled that trick with the camomile again, and cleaned the wound. I know it's dumb, but I know nothing else and I hope I didn't make it worse”, she gestured to the kettle.

Eskel chuckled. “That doesn't matter. Thanks you for that. It won't help much, but at least the wound is clean … That's the second time you helped me out, actually.” Reaching out, he put a hand on her arm. “Thank you. A lot. I've said it before, but I don't get this kind of reaction from people very often.”

Juka pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Must be high time then”, she grumbled, getting up and fetching another cloth that had been lying on the table. “Your're thirsty?”, she asked, filling a second tankard on the table with water.

Eskel nodded. “Very. What happened to the heads, by the way? I need them.”

The half-gnome sighed. “The heads are safe. They are in the stable, in one of the empty boxes – your horse didn't like having them near him, and Apollonius went practically wild … Can't blame them either”. She shuddered. “I'll probably have nightmares about them. What _are_ these things?”.

Eskel adjusted his position. “Nekker.”, he said, “they are gone now, you don't need to worry about them. I burned the bodies and made sure that the burrows caved in.

That means you can go to the dance next week”, he added, smiling at her and crossing his arms, “bet you can't wait to wear that ribbon Priscilla promised you.”

Juka rolled her eyes and wiped a drop of water off the table with the edge of her shirt. “Oh yes. The ribbon. I really just came out for you to make sure you had finished the job, you know”, she grinned, “to make sure I get to wear the ribbon. Just so you know. No need to let all of this getting right into your head.”

Eskel chuckled. “Must be some special ribbon. What colour?”

“Pink, of course.”

The Witcher raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Bet that looks stunning with your hair.”

The half-gnome nodded and said something Eskel couldn't understand.

“What was that?”, he asked, adusting his position.

Juka took the tankard, which was filled almost to the brim, balancing it carefully as she was coming back to him. “Oh, it's a Gnomish saying … Usually, you'd translate it with “fits like a glove” in the Common tongue”, she sat down on the stool again, ”although the Gnomish original is a bit … well, more graphic.” She winked, then handed him the tankard.

Eskel took it.“What's the more graphic meaning?”

“Fits like an arse on a bucket.”

Eskel threw his head back and laughed. A few drops of water spilled on the sheets, but he didn't mind. Raising the mug in salutation, he drank deeply.

 _That helps._  
  
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and handing the tankard back, he tried to move his leg a bit. “This feels as if it's swollen up … Do you know where my saddlebag is?”

“Over there”, she got up, gesturing under the table, “I carried it up when the men brought you here.”

“Thanks. Could you hand it to me?”, Eskel pushed the sheets aside far enough to take a look at his leg.

_Doesn't look too good. Damn Nekker. At least the wound is clean now._

Juka pushed the stool closer to the bed and set the saddlebag on top of it. “Here you go. Do you need anything else?”

Eskel shook his head. “No, thank you. I am going to put some elixiers on the wound, make it heal faster. I am glad you cleaned it!”, he added, “Nekker teeth can cause nasty infections. That was a smart move.”

The half-gnome smiled. “I'm glad to hear that … I'll be back later”, she said, moving to the door, “I'll have a look at your trousers and jacket. Then you can tend to the wound in peace.”

Eskel nodded. “I really don't know how to thank you for that, to be honest”, he told her, looking earnest.

She gave him a lopsided grin. “Then don't”, she answered and was out the door.  
  


Eskel stared into the empty space for a moment – then he chuckled, and opened the saddle bag.

_Alright, let's see what we got here._


	17. Chapter 17

The leg was better on the next morning already. Shifting his weight from one foot to another, Eskel gradually tried out whether he could stand, pirouette, crouch. The wound didn't break open, and the pain was almost gone.  
_Good thing. Only collect the money, and then I can get out of here …The headache will leave too in a few hours, I guess._

 

He hadn't gone downstairs that evening again – Juka had knocked on the door later, carrying a tray with stew and bread and folded clothes over her arm. He tried them on now, a clean white shirt and a pair of brown, woolen trousers had been placed on his doorstep. The shirt was a little too tight for him, but the trousers fit nicely, despite being a bit short.

Eskel washed, got dressed, picked up the tray and made his way down to the taproom.  
_Last day here. This afternoon, I'll be off. Finally ..._

 

Juka was scrubbing on a stain on the counter with an old brush, her sleeves rolled up and her braid resting over her right shoulder. Her shirt, not being laced up properly, didn't show much of cleavage, but Eskel caught a climpse of something black just below her collarbone. Looking up, Juka put down the brush and met him to take the tray. She bit her lip, but the Witcher saw the amusement in her eyes.

“Yes, yes, very funny”, he grumbled, keeping an edge of amusement in his voice, “I know I look ridiculous.”

The young woman smiled. “You don't look ridiculous. It's just weird. I've never seen you wear anything else.” She raised her eyebrows. “How's your leg? Doesn't seem that you're in much pain anymore?”

Eskel shook his head. “No, I'm fine. The wound was deep, you were right about that, but thanks to you, it didn't get infected and I was able to tend to it properly.”

“Great!”  
_Her whole face lights up when she smiles. Nice to see that in a woman looking at me_.

 

Juka gestured to one of the tables. “Sit wherever you like – I'll get you breakfast and your clothes.”

Before he could say anything to that, she was off, returning a few minutes later with two bowls of porridge.

“Trousers and jacket may take another hour”, she said, “I hung them over the fire and kept it burning low, so they dried pretty fast.”

Eskel nodded, accepting the bowl and starting on his porridge, “You don't sleep much, do you?”  
The half-gnome shrugged, “it depends. Last night was pretty quiet, to be honest, and I slept in the afternoon, by a little stream that runs behind the inn. That was nice … Besides, I like the night. I was born in the winter, and they say that people born at the beginning of the long darkness prefer the night … or are more comfortable in it.” She bent her head and spooned porridge into her mouth.

The Witcher eyed her for a moment.

“I never thanked you for the information about the reeve”, he finally said, “you could have told me about the housekeeper, too, though. She was a piece of work.” He smiled, but instead of taking him up on the joke, her face became earnest. She put the spoon aside.

“THAT was for you behaving so shitty to me that morning.” Her eyes threw sparks. “Do you know how _embarrassed_ I felt? And then you, you...”, for a moment, Juka seemed lost for words, blushing again, “... you didn't REACT to that! I was _so damn nervous_ when you came into the stable and you were so high and mighty, jabbering on and on about this stupid contract – as if _nothing had happened! As if you hadn't heard it!”_

“I didn't-”

“O, _don't_ try to play dumb with me.” She flared her nostrils, and a crease formed over the root of her nose. “I _know_ you did, Priscilla screamed loud enough-”

“I mean I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to hurt you, and I'm sorry.”

“Oh.”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

Eskel cleared his throat. “I was … surprised. And … flattered.” He hesitated for a moment. “I … don't get championed often. _Never_ , to be true. You caught me off guard, I never expected you to stand up for me like that. And … about … well ...”, he rubbed the scar on his cheek, feeling embarrassed, “...let's just say, if I could blush, I would have, too.“

She looked at him, surprised. „You do not blush?“

„No.“ Eskel shook his head. „I can't. It's part of the mutation. We're made to be calm. No big emotions for us.“

She furrowed her brow. „So … love, hate, anger … You do not feel any of that? Not even when you kill?“

Eskel smiled. „No. That is one of the reasons why we are made the way we are. I mean, I _still_ get angry, and I _still_ find things funny, and can feel _love_ , too … I _do_ feel nervousness and hatred and all that … But it's somehow … _muted_. It doesn't overpower me. The mutation numbed lots and lots of feelings, so that we are not distracted from the kill.“

“And that is true for every Witcher?”

“It is”.  
_Except for Geralt_ , Eskel thought, _Geralt does get carried away. The way he's looking at Yennefer … There is nothing muted about that._

Juka nodded thoughtfully. „That makes sense, in a way … But it's also sad, don't you think? Never to fall head over heels in love for somebody? Never burning with anger? Never ...“

„I wouldn't know. I don't remember anything else, to be honest.“

 

No one spoke for a few minutes.

 

“But you _did_ get past her, right?”, Juka asked after a a while, looking up, “I mean, you got the contract.”

“I did”, Eskel drank, “but it was hard work for sure.”

The half-gnome broke into a lopsided grin, “what did you do?”

“Used _Axii_.”

“Huh?”  
  
“It is a Witcher sign”, Eskel explained, “it allows me to confund people, make them do what I want, or leave me alone.”

Juka eyed him, her face sceptical. “That sounds … Weird. Do you ...”, she hesitated for a moment, “do you use that often?”  
_Ahh, well._

“You mean, did I use it on you?” Eskel shook his head, smiling. “No. I promise. I have never experienced it myself – and I am immune to that, by the way – but I have been told that it makes you feel dizzy and strange. If I had used _Axii_ on you, there'd be a gap in your memory. Is there a time span when you didn't know what you did or when you found yourself someplace you didn't remember going to?”

The young women thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No.”  
_Sounds a bit relieved._

“I didn't harm her, I promise. Just told her to take me to the reeve. I assure you that I don't go around throwing that sign left, right, and centre”, Eskel said earnestly, “but this was …”

“An emergency?” Juka's eyes twinkled.

“Yes.” the Witcher nodded, rising his eyebrows in amusement, “an emergency.”

They both laughed.

 

“Well … I am not sorry for what I said that morning”, Juka finally said, crossing her arms on the table, “I meant it. Truth be told, I was annoyed with Priscilla's and my master's behaviour on the night you arrived. I get … looks, too, although people don't scream, when they see me”, she snorted, “but … I have been called names all my life. I look strange, and people don't know where to put me … That doesn't go well with most.

So, maybe, I may know a bit what it's like. And I wanted to make up for that, showing you that not everybody was like them.”

Eskel raised his eyebrows. “So you pitied me?”  
_Please no. I've had that before._

Juka threw him a look. “Don't be stupid”, she said, furrowing her brow, “you're no man to pity.”'  
' _Good._

 

“I just don't like people to be prejudiced”, she continued, “I don't know if you heard our conversation before I came to serve you-”

“I did”, Eskel interrupted,

“\- then you know that I asked whether something was wrong with you. We _have_ had guests who came in drunk or where simply crazy – and since Priscilla is not too fond of serving these folks, it's usually my turn. Since the only _problem_ ”, she gave a small snort, “seemed to be your trade and your eyes, I found it utterly ridiculous. And I wasn't disappointed.

You  _are_ a nice guy”, she added, reaching for her tankard, “and you have been nothing but polite and friendly since you've been here. I have seen how you tend to Scorpion, and somebody whose first worry after having sorted out a pub brawl is whether his horse is alright, and who takes the time to groom a stallion before he rides off to battle isn't somebody who blunders in and spits on manners. You're a good man, and these have become rare.” Juka drank.  
_No blushing now. She's serious._

  
“ What I mean is”, Juka set her tankard down, but held it in both hands, “don't let folks get to you. I know it's no fun getting stared at wherever you go, and sure, Witchers have kind of a weird reputation … But people are dumb. And scared. It's wartime. Don't take it personally. If someone is nasty to you because of your scar or your eyes”, her face became grim, “to hell with them, I say. _I_ have had guests who didn't want to be served by me. Some of the families in my village thought my father crazy for not throwing me into an old mine right after my mother placed me on his doorstep – and told me that, to my face. Do not apologise. The good folks will like you for who you are.”

 

“That is a big piece of advice. “ Eskel grinned, stretching his legs and reaching for his own tankard.

“Consider it your farewell gift”, Juka winked at him and raised her tankard in salutation, “comes from the heart as well. And I have another little bit of extra advice, too.”

“Sounds great. What is it?”

 

“Well, no hard feelings mate”, Juka furrowed her brow, “but you stink to the high heavens. No offense, Eskel … But you really should take a bath before you go. Get up to your room, I'll bring up a washtub and hot water in a bit. Your clothes, too.”


	18. Chapter 18

After gathering his belongings and checking his saddlebag for the last time, Eskel pulled on his jacket and gauntlets. The spare pair of trousers and the shirt lay on the bed, neatly folded. The Witcher stretched himself and shouldered his swords. He had indeed taken a bath, being surprised at how quickly Juka had come up with hot water and soap, but they had both laughed when she admitted that she had heated a cauldron with water that very morning, “because I could just about smell you from your room”.

His clothes were clean and dry, too – he'd have to mend a few places on the shoulders, where the Nekker's claws had pierced the fabric, but that wouldn't take long.  
_I'll do that when I stop for a rest tonight._

Scorpion snorted and shook his mane as the Witcher entered the stable. It was clear that he was more than ready to leave.

“Did you get tired of your box?”, Eskel asked casually as he went past the horse and fetched the saddle and snaffle from the corner, “don't worry. We'll be off now. Stayed long enough …. One last trip to the village to get my money, and then it's the path again. You'll get plenty of exercise“, he said, patting the stallion's neck. Scorpion whinnied softly.

Fastening the saddle strips one more time, Eskel saw a movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Master Witcher”, he turned his head to see Priscilla's mother approaching him, “I wanted to thank you for everything you have done. Not only have you rescued my daughter”, she held up her hand as he opened his mouth, “but you have also ensured the safety of this road and thus have saved us business. Please, accept this from us as a token of gratitude.”

She handed him a big bundle. Eskel smelled bread, cheese, meat – and apples.

“That's rather too much”, he answered, bowing before her, “you have already been kind enough to me.”

“This is nothing”, she said, shaking her head, “we have a lot to be thankful for, my husband and I. This morning, Barnaby has shown up to apologise to Priscilla. He is very, very sorry and maybe the wedding can still be held.”

“I'm happy to hear that. Thank you for the food – I shall enjoy it a lot, I think.”

Priscilla's mother smiled warmly. “I hope so. Have a good journey, Master Witcher. May the Great Melitele bless your path and keep you safe.” She turned and left the stable.

Feeling pleased, Eskel stowed the bundle in the largest saddlebag. “Look at this!”, he said, as he opened the box to let Scorpion out, “free food! Who would have thought ...”

“Master Witcher?”

Turning again, he saw Priscilla come nearer. He raised his eyebrows in surprise; just when she stood before him, he remembered his manners and gave a light bow. “What can I do for you?”

“I just … I just wanted to thank you. For … for helping me out” Priscilla shifted her weight, clearly feeling uncomfortable, “the other day. That was … very brave of you."  
_Still doesn't look at me_ _straight_.

Eskel shook his head. “You should thank Juka”, he answered casually, “it was her who reacted, not me. I only stepped in when it seemed that it would come to bloodshed.”

“I … I have thanked her”, Priscilla nodded hastily, “and …”, she blushed, “I also wanted to apologise.”

“Ah?”

“Yes … for … for what I said. The day when you arrived”, she spluttered, “that was mean. Really mean. You have been very kind and polite, and my mother … I mean, _I_ think that I have misjudged you. Forgive me.”

Eskel nodded and smiled politely. “Don't worry. It happens all the time, and you are not the first. It is already forgiven”, he added, seeing the girl blush even deeper, “it was natural that you were worried and afraid.

Congratulations on your marriage, by the way!”, he added, not being able to resist, “I heard that your fiancé has finally apologised?”

Looking startled, Priscilla stared at him for a moment, then her face lit up and she smiled. “Yes! He came in this morning, saying how very sorry he was … He said he drank too much that night, and that it will never happen again. He even brought me flowers!”  
_Well, at least you have already learned to lie to yourself_.

“I am happy to hear that”, he answered, “may your marriage be happy, and your children strong and beautiful”.

The girl gave him a little smile and wiped her hands on her apron. “Well … Goodbye, Master Witcher. I have to go now. Juka is outside, she wanted to say goodbye, too.” She gave him a quick curtsy and hurried out of the stable, careful not to get her skirt and shoes dirty.  
_She wants to say goodbye? Huh …That's something new ..._

 

Eskel spotted Juka as soon as he had left the stable. She was sitting cross-legged on a bench in front of the inn, but she got up as soon as he had led Scorpion outside.  
_Now what am I gonna SAY?!_

“So! You're leaving?” Her smile was warm, but he thought he could see a hint of insecurity in it, too.

“Yes”, the Witcher cleared his throat, “it's high time, really. Can't leave the heads here forever; the stench will be worse than me this morning”, he managed.  
_At least I thought of that. Plus, I can almost be sure she'll find that funny._

Juka grinned. “Then I guess I won't be seeing you again. You're taking the other street?”

Eskel nodded, “probably. I want to leave Velen, go North. So … No. I won't be coming back.” He gave her a smile.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence growing up between them. Eskel raked his brains, trying to find something to say, but he could come up with nothing.  
_I'm definitely not used to this kind of thing. THINK, Eskel ..._

Before he could make up his mind, however, Juka stepped forward and bowed deeply. “I wish you a fair trade, Eskel”, she said, her voice clear and solemn, “may you stay healthy, your horse's feet swift, your purse full and your heart light”. Looking up to him, she gave him a lopsided smile.  
_She looks weird. … Is she sad?_

The Witcher bowed before her, too, then he extended his right hand; Juka took it and they exchanged a firm handshake. “Thank you so much, for everything”, Eskel said earnestly, “for your kindness, your friendliness and that you took care of me when I needed it. If you ever need help, send for me, and I will come.”

Juka nodded, “I thank you for protecting me on the first night”, she answered, “for letting me talk to you, and for telling me a bit about yourself.” She gave his hand another squeeze.  
_Quite the firm handshake._

“You have taught me that Witchers are honourable, and kind”, she continued, “and I will tell from now on everybody that one indeed shan't judge a book by its cover. May you prosper on the Path.”

For a moment, they held hands, looking into each others eyes.  
_Brown. Funny I never paid attention to that._

Finally, they broke the handshake simultaneously and stepped back. Juka tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “Wow. I can't remember when I said goodbye obeying all of the etiquette”, she said, blushing a little.

“Me neither”, Eskel grinned, then cleared his throat. “I wish you happiness, Juka. Goodbye.”

Grabbing the saddle horn, he swung himself into the saddle. Juka came to him and stroked Scorpion's nose. “Take care of the two of you”, she told the horse, and the stallion whinnied softly and nudged her hands.

Giving his horse a pat on the neck, Eskel nodded one last time. Juka stepped back, bowing her head and smiling.

 

He put his heels into the stallion's side, and Scorpion trotted off, following the road to the village.


	19. Chapter 19

The sky was grey, just like the day when he had come to the Inn. Big clouds were balling up; the birds were growing quiet, waiting for the rain.

Eskel recognised all of this only with the edge of his mind, letting Scorpion lead the way.  
_That was … strange. I'm definitely not used to people wanting to say goodbye to me._

 

“We've got to remember that” he told Scorpion, “the next time someone is giving us shit, we'll remember Juka and how friendly she was.” The horse gave a snort in reply.

Finally, the village came into view. It was noisier than two days before, and the road seemed to be more crowded as well.  
_Is that ... music?_

“Slow, Scorpion, slow. We don't want to ride anybody over ...”  
_Damn, there's a lot of people around. What's up?_

A few minutes later, he could see the reason for the crowds.  
_Market Day. Better go on foot then._

Dismounting, he took the stallion's reigns and slowly made his way though the market place. People were everywhere, strolling around, haggling, shouting, bantering, arguing, or simply standing together and exchanging news. A bard had claimed a corner of the marketplace and was playing on a fiddle – his small dog danced in front of him on his hind legs, being applauded by several children. The smell of food – Eskel could make out garlic, onions, oil and something sweet – and the stench of sweat were everywhere. In a side street, people were watching a cockfight, betting loudly.

Although it was very crowded, he was granted sufficient space – people who saw him moved aside hastily, and he could hear gasps and muffled shrieks behind him, when people spotted the Nekker heads.  
_Ahh, I always love that part. Maybe I should go round with a little bowl, collect money …_

 

Eskel could just feel himself getting in a bad mood again, when he suddenly remembered Juka's words. _'People are dumb. And scared. It's wartime. The good people will like you for who you are.'_

A lopsided grin formed on his face.  
_Helping already._  
  
  


Finally, he stood before the reeve's house. He tied Scorpion's reigns to a nearby post, and knocked.  
_Let's hope this will be faster than last time …_

“Madam”, he said as soon as the door opened a crack, smiling to himself, “greetings. May I speak to the reeve?”

The woman looked at him suspiciously, her eyes only slits in her withered face. “The reeve hasn't got time right now. What do you want?”

Eskel gave her a polite smile. “Well, I fulfilled my side of the contract. I just wanted to collect my payment, then I'll be off.”

The housekeeper didn't move an inch. “I don't know of no contract.”  
_Of course you don't._

He cleared his throat and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Madam, I was here a few days ago. The reeve and I nailed up a contract about a monster that was killing travellers on the road between the village and the nearby inn. I found the monsters and got rid of them. And now I'm here for the coin.”

“My master is not well.”  
_Enough_.

Eskel glared at her, taking a small step forward. “Beg pardon, Madam”, he said, keeping his tone polite, but firm, “I don't give a damn about how your master is. All I want to do is to deliver these heads”, he gestured to the bundle, which produced a scared shriek from her, “to proof that I have fulfilled my part of the contract. Once I am paid, I will leave, and you will never see me again.”

She scowled at him, but finally stepped aside, not taking her eyes of the heads. Eskel went over to the stallion and took the net.

“Come in then.”  
_At last._  
  


He could smell the wine from the hallway already. As the kitchen door opened, Eskel caught an additional whiff of barf and urine.  
_Perfect conditions for negotiations._

“I have told you my master is not well” The housekeeper mumbled behind him.

“Well, I wouldn't be well if I were that drunk, either”, Eskel answered drily. “It's market day! Shouldn't he be outside, supervising everyone?”

“My master has many duties”, the old woman hissed, “surely you cannot-”

“-expect him to be sober?” Eskel dropped the heads unceremoniously on the table and shook the sleeping man by the shoulder. “ _Hey_!”

The reeve opened his eyes a bit and grunted. “ _What?”_

“Wake up, Master Reeve, wake up. I'm here for the contract's payment.” Eskel turned to the housekeeper. “Will you fetch him a tankard of cold water, please? _Now”_ , he added, resisting the urge to use the _Axii_ -sign on her again.

She went over to the sink, taking two wooden tankards out of a shelf on her way. Eskel sat himself down on the other side of the reeve, who was rubbing his head and cursing under his breath. The housekeeper returned, setting Eskel's tankard on the table so hard that the water spilled. _  
I've seen cleaner tankards._

Raising it in salutation, Eskel nodded to the reeve. “To your health. You will be pleased to know that I managed to kill the monster near the street. Or _monsters_ , I should say.” He gestured to the heads between them.

The reeve grunted, ignoring the heads and taking a drink from the tankard. “Water?!” He threw a nasty look to his servant, who was making her way out of the kitchen.

“Water”, Eskel answered, “you've had enough wine, from what I smell.”

“That's not for you to decide.”

“Maybe not. Still, I'm only here for the money. Then I'll be off, and leave you to your drink”.

Eskel shoved the tankard away from him and gestured to the heads.

The reeve seemed to realise what was in front of him just now. He gave a small frightened squeak and shuddered. “By the Gods! What are those … things?”

“Nekker. Tried to take a bite out of me, too.” Eskel scratched his chin.

The man pushed his chair back away from the table. “Nekker, eh? Well … Well, fine. If you dispose of this … I … I will pay you. Over there ….”, he pointed to a chest in a corner of the kitchen, “you'll find a little sack. Bring it here.”

Eskel threw the man a meaningful look.

“Please.” The reeve shrank a little in his chair.

“Sure thing.” Pushing back his own seat, the Witcher went over to the chest. When he returned to the table, he set the sack in front of the man, who was still eying the heads. He hadn't moved closer to the table again.

The reeve didn't pay the sack any attention, but shoved it over to Eskel. “Here, witcher. Take it.”

Eskel furrowed his brow. “You counted it out beforehand?”

“It doesn't matter. Take it.”  
  


The Witcher shook his head, opening the sack and emptying it on the table – a small heap of coins formed on the table. Counting quickly, Eskel put three quarters of the coins into the sack.

The reeve looked up, giving a surprised burp. “You won't take it all?”

Eskel shook his head. “This is the agreed price. This”, he pointed to the remaining money, “wasn't part of the contract.”

The reeve was taken aback, so much was clear. “But … why?”

“You mean why am I honest?” Eskel gave him a lopsided grin, “well, let's just say that not all rumors about Witchers are true. Our greediness, for example. That's bullshit.”

“By the gods”, the reeve stood up and grabbed the edge of the table to stand steadily, making a move as if he wanted to give him a pat on the shoulder, but, seeing the spikes on Eskel's jacket, letting his hand hang awkwardly in the air, “I really like you, Witcher! Take this”, he shoved half of the remaining coins into his palm and offered them to Eskel, “for your injury.”  
_Day seems to be full of surprises suddenly._  
  


Eskel stood up, took the money and bowed his head lightly. “I thank you”, he said, “this is rare”. He put the additional coins into the sack and pocketed it. “I keep my promises, too”, he said, “I'll be off. Live long, Master Reeve. Goodbye.”

“I will walk you to the door.”  
_That might take a while._  
  


Opening the front door, both men bowed again.

“Goodbye, Witcher. Oh, one more thing ...”

“Yes?”

“I heard that this half-blood injured the lord's son”, the reeve's face suddenly got redder, “is that true? He came up a few days ago and told me. And _you_ ”, he made a step towards Eskel, “ _you_ were pretty friendly with her as well. Took her as a whore, the young lord said. I'd just advise you to leave quickly.”

Eskel narrowed his eyes. “She has never been my whore. He molested the Inkeep's daughter, embarrassed her in public. Juka helped, and he set his men on her.”

“Ah well”, the reeve spat on the floor, “that's probably what she told you ...”

“She didn't need to tell me. I was there.”

“Be that as it may … You'd better not be too friendly with her. Can't trust these nonhumans. I'm surprised she hasn't stolen everything that's loose in there”, the Reeve spat on the floor again.  
_Wondering if his housekeeper knows about this habit._

“I have no time for your prejudices”, Eskel answered matter-of-fact, “I cannot say anything bad about her. She is half human yes, but this has never been her choice. I have found her to be trustworthy. Don't worry.”

The reeve shook his head, but didn't say anything else. Leaning in the doorway, he crossed his arms, frowning.  
  


Eskel turned and loosened Scorpion's reigns from the nearby post. He had just swung himself into the saddle and given the man a last nod, when, suddenly, a cry made the men's heads turn in unison.

“The Inn! _The Inn!_ ” A man came running towards the reeve's house, panting heavily and pressing his right hand to his chest.

“What's with the Inn?”, the reeve asked, making an insecure step forward and throwing Eskel a meaningful look, “speak!”

“The Inn, Master Reeve!”, the man still had to pause between words, “the Inn is on fire!”

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

_Keep calm. Don't rush out now. They will only be more suspicious.  
_ Eskel dismounted and made a step closer to the man. “How do you know? What happened?”

“I-I saw it, Master Witcher”, the man was still catching his breath. “I-I was on my way to the Inn, to have a drink … I have made some good deals today … Wanted to celebrate it …”

“And then what?” The reeve's voice was hard.  
_Fresh air seems to do wonders. Seems a lot more sober now._

“I … I saw the smoke! Saw the smoke, and the lord's son and two of his friends were coming from the direction of the inn!“

“ _From the Inn_?” Eskel narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, now throwing his own meaningful look at the reeve, “and they didn't help? Didn't do anything to put the fire out?”

“Watch your mouth, Witcher!”, the reeve bellowed, “surely three men cannot do anything about a fire?”

“Well, two of them could have gotten themselves buckets, and send the third to the village”, Eskel shot back, glowering at the man.

“N-no, Master Witcher! They- they were threatened!”

“Threatened? By whom?”

“By …. By the half-”

“I _knew_ it!”, the reeve jeered, stumbling to the man and slapping him on the shoulder. Giving Eskel a pretty nasty look, he spat on the ground, “she's harmless, yes? Absolutely harmless?! Your half-blood whore? Ha!”  
_This can't get more ridiculous._

“Are you seriously telling me”, Eskel was growling by now, “that three grown men, who have been training with a sword since their childhood, feel _threatened_ by a young woman whose mother was fucked by a gnome? Who's half their size? And who has no weapon?”

“We-well, she _did_ break Sir Berryl's hand-”

_“Because he tried to grope her tits!”_

“I don't care what lies you are telling yourself now, Witcher”, the reeve turned away from Eskel and gave the man a short pat on the back. “Quick now, get the other men and then we'll put the fire out and that half-blood will get what she deserves.” He gave Eskel a nasty look, “or … will you do it, Witcher? If we pay you enough?”  
_Eskel … Go. Simply go._

“I will have no part in this.” Eskel went over to Scorpion and swung himself into the saddle, “do whatever you want.”

“You're not gonna warn her, do you?” The reeve came over to him again and stood in front of Scorpion.  
“Don't touch the horse's snaffle”, Eskel said, his voice icy, “he'll bite you. I am on my way. This blood will be on your hands alone.”

Forcing himself not to press the heels in Scorpion's sides, he rode out of the village, manoeuvring carefully between the various people.  
As soon as he was out on the road again, he thought for a moment.  
“Ridiculous”, he muttered, then he looked over to the direction of the Inn.  
_Vesemir would go wild if he knew that I got up to my arse into this._

_“People are scared. It's wartime. The good people will like you for who you are.”_

“Ah fuck it. … We'll grab her and get her somewhere else. Come on, Scorpion!”  
Digging his heels into the sides of the stallion, he adjusted his swords with one last shrug and bent over Scorpion's neck as the horse picked up speed.

 

The roof of the Inn had already collapsed when he finally arrived.  
_Where is everybody?_

Eskel dismounted, quickly scanning the surroundings for the Innkeep and his wife.  
_Somebody HAS to be here!_

“Hello?!”  
Finally, he spotted a small, hunched figure on the ground, barely visible against the big bush she huddled against.  
_Must be her._

“Juka?”

She turned to look at him – her face was covered in soot, interrupted only by some brighter streaks on her cheeks.  
_Tears._

A small bubble of snot had formed under her nose, and something had dribbled onto the front of her shirt. She had put her arms around her knees, and was rocking back and forth, back and forth.

Carefully coming closer, he went down to one knee. “Juka?”

Back and forth, back and forth. She stared at him, her eyes empty.

“Juka? Juka, what happened here?” Slowly, he extended his hand and put it on her shoulder – but as soon as he touched her, she janked away.

_“No!”_

Stumbling, she came to her feet, trying to get away from him – a few steps further, she suddenly doubled over, choking and coughing. He smelled vomit.  
_Shit._

He went over to her and put an arm around her shoulder, holding on as she tried to get away from him again.

Finally, she looked up.  
_So much fear in her eyes._

“Don't sell me to the reeve”, she fell onto her knees, hugging his knees, crawling in front of him, “please, Eskel. Don't sell me to the reeve.” She was crying, her breath coming in gasps.  
_What the …_

“Juka”, Eskel knelt before her and put his hand under her chin so she could look into his face. Her hair was singed in some places. “Juka, stop it. Please. I am not here to give you to anyone.”

“No?”

“No. I just heard … about the fire. What happened here, Juka? Where is your master? Your mistress? Where is Priscilla?”

She didn't answer. Instead, she slowly pointed to the Inn. Eskel spotted something dark on her fingers, as if she had tipped a few fingertips in ink.

“Who did this? I know it wasn't you.”

Juka shook her head, hugging her knees again.  
_This doesn't work._

Grabbing the young woman's shoulders, Eskel shook her a bit. “Juka, we don't have time for this. What happened? Who did this?”

“Barnaby.” Her voice was almost inaudible, but she looked up, and her eyes began to clear. “I … I was to go to the market. I got my cloak, a basket with some things we wanted to sell, the shopping list, Priscilla's shawl and the coins my mistress gave me. I went to the stable and got Apolonius, tied it all to his back. When I went into the stable, Barnaby arrived, with three of his friends.”  
_Finally, we're getting somewhere. But … three?_

Eskel nodded. “Then what?”

She swallowed. “I remembered my mistress mentioning that she wanted to get some pork. It wasn't on the list, so I wanted to get back, to-to check if-”

“If your mistress still needed the pork?”

“Yes. They”, she swallowed, “they were fighting. The … my master and Barnaby. Barnaby said he didn't want to marry Priscilla anymore. Because … Because of...”

“Because of what I did?”  
_Dammit Eskel. That's EXACTLY what Vesemir meant._

Juka nodded. “He-, he said she would only laugh behind his back. And he wanted to break off the engagement.” She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths. “My master wouldn't have it. Said he'd go to the lord, complain about this. Especially since …”, she cast her eyes down, “well … Priscilla … she …”

“Yeah, I can imagine that Barnaby wasn't patient enough to wait for the wedding night”, Eskel added drily.

“I don't know how they knew that. The fight got more heated, and then my master … he threw the tankard he had been cleaning and almost hit Barnaby in the head.”  
_That probably didn't end well._

Juka swiped her nose with the back of her hand. “The four of them drew their swords. It all happened so fast. Priscilla came into the room and … She screamed and he … he pushed her and she fell, and he said, he'd give her a goodbye present, and one of this friends held her down and … The second one … He went into the kitchen and when he came back, he had my mistress in tow. And then he swung his sword and ...”

The half-gnome doubled over, choking, but Eskel could see from the way her belly was cramping that there wouldn't be anything left to throw up.

Another flame shot up.

“I-I didn't do anything.” Tears were streaming down her face, “I was like … like paralyzed, I was so afraid, this was such a nightmare, and then … then the third one saw me and came after me, and ...”

“And then what?” Eskel furrowed his brow, “what did you do?”

“I … I got my knife out of my boot, and I-I stabbed. There was blood … I don't know if he died. He fell down and didn't move, and I … I ran and grabbed Apolonius' reigns, and ran.”  
_So that's why there were only three men coming back from the Inn. And why her fingertips are dark._

She swallowed, “I wanted to come back, you know, when they left, I came back, and I wanted to get them out, but they had already set fire to the Inn, and it was so hot, and I couldn't get in, and I was so afraid, and ….” Juka was rocking back and forth again. “It's all my fault. It's all my fault. I bring bad luck … They have always said it …”

“Bullshit”, Eskel shook his head, “People don't get cursed like that. I would know. So it was _Barnaby_ who set fire to the Inn?”

Juka nodded. Then she looked into Eskel's eyes. “Nobody will believe me.”

“Don't think so”, the Witcher stood up, pulling the young woman up with him, “we have to get going. Someone already came running to the reeve, reporting on the fire. He also said that Barnaby and his men had told him that you had threatened them.”  
_Still wonder why Barnaby didn't get to the village first to tell the tale though._

“But I cannot leave! I have nowhere to go!”, the panic crept back into Juka's voice, “I have nowhere to go! I don't know where to go! I-”

“Well, there is _one_ place you _don't_ want to go”, Eskel interrupted, taking her hand and dragging her to Scorpion, “and that would be the village. If they find you here, you will hang. Up you get-”

“I can't leave Apolonius! I-”  
_Argh._

“Alright then. Where is he?”  
_Patience, Eskel. Patience. She's panicky. But we REALLY need to get going now._

Juka whistled softly. Almost immediately, as if he had been waiting in the shadows, the donkey trotted towards them.

“Fine. There he is. Brilliant.”  
Eskel put his arms around Juka and set her on the donkey's back, then went over to Scorpion, “off we go.”

“Why are you helping me?” Eskel turned around. Juka's eyes were big, and she was shivering. The fire cracked, sparks flew up. “I cannot pay you for this.”

Eskel shook his head. “Then don't”, he answered, “come.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_“Will you look at that. Never thought of you as a knight in shining armor.”_

_“Don't be ridiculous, Lambert. What should I have done? Let her hang?”_

_“Just sayin'. For someone so stiff as you, that's an amazingly generous interpretation of the old man's rules. But since I've seen her look at you-”_

_“Shut the fuck up. And don't shout. You'll wake her.”_

 

**End of Part I**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader,
> 
> thank you for coming this far! Part I has ended, Eskel has - finally - left the Inn for good and Juka and him are on their way. 
> 
> I will take a little break - more than a week, but no longer than the end of April! - to write more chapters and to prepare for busier times. 
> 
> If you have any requests for adventures, prompts, general wishes, scenes you'd like to see ... Or anything else, just drop me a line in the comments, send me an e-mail (it's in the profile) or contact me on tumblr (same username). I can't promise to put it all in, but I'll be doing my best. :) This story is for you, after all!
> 
> All the love, and thank you so much for the comments, the kudos and the support,  
> Akhuna. :)


	21. Chapter 21

“ _And? Still asleep?”_

“ _Looks like it. Fever is still up, though … I'm glad we made it in time.”_

“ _Thanks to me.”_

“ _YES, Lambert. Thanks to you. THANK YOU.”_

“ _You're welcome. And take that look off your face. She'll make it.”_

“ _So now you're omniscient, too?”_

“ _No. But she's tough. That's obvious.”_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  


They rode in silence. They didn't travel as fast as Eskel would have preferred it, but Apolonius kept a steady pace and whenever he slowed a bit, Juka climbed down from his back and walked beside him, the donkey's reigns in her hands, pulling the animal forward.

A soft rain had started to fall.

Eskel watched her closely, but the young woman didn't seem to faint or to break down. From time to time, he could see tears streaming down her face, but she never said anything and he couldn't come up with something to comfort her. Her face pale and her looks empty, she moved on, though – one step at a time, she stumbled on steadily.

_As if she was being moved forward by something. But better that than if she was having hysterics._

  
At dusk, Eskel pulled on Scorpion's reigns, bringing the stallion to a halt. “Let's rest here, shall we?”

Juka furrowed her brow. “Are you sure? I can go on, if we need to. Don't worry about me.”

Eskel dismounted. “Yes. I'm fairly certain. They didn't come after us, so we might even be outside the lord's realm already. Also, don't know about you, but my arse is about to fall off. We'll make a fire, get something to eat.”

The young woman cast a look over her shoulder. “Do you think a fire will be safe?”

“Yes. We will keep it small though.”

Juka merely nodded and slid off Apolonius' back. “I'll gather wood”, she said, “and- and I'll see to it that we will get something to eat and then-”

_Oh no._

“No.”, Eskel shook his head and crossed his arms, “we are going to split the work. You're not my personal slave. If you go get some firewood, I'll look after Scorpion and Apolonius, then help you with the food. Alright?”

“Alright”, she mumbled, and trotted off into the dusk. Eskel watched her go, shaking his head and furrowing his brow.

_Have to keep an eye out for her though. Don't want her to do something stupid._

It didn't take long to care for the stallion – he left the saddle on Scorpion's back, but took the food out of the saddle bag and untied his bedroll. After checking if the straps had rubbed the horse's skin anywhere and whether its hooves were alright, the stallion snorted, nuzzling his nose against his cheek and trotted off, clearly in search of grass.

Apolonius was as calm as ever – the donkey seemed to be completely unaffected by the events of the day. He merely twitched his ears as Eskel approached him, but stood still. The Witcher took the small beer-barrel, that had been tied to the donkey's back and placed it on the ground; in the basket on the other side, he found a gray hooded travel cloak, a small flask of water, and a small pot with pastries that smelled of herbs and something sweet. Lastly, his fingertips reached a soft bundle.

_Her knitting?_

Taking it out of the bag, he could see that he had been right – the shawl had grown significantly during the last few days, feeling featherly light and very soft to the touch. Carefully, he set it on top of the barrel.

_Maybe that will calm her._

He petted the donkey's neck and tried to loosen the straps that held the containers, but Apolonius stepped aside, joining Scorpion, who had found a patch of grass and was already munching.

 

The sound of steps made him turn around; Juka was returning, a bundle of twigs in her arms. She dropped them to the ground, arranged them hastily and, pulling something out of her pocket, started to busy herself with the wood.

Eskel checked that everything he had taken off Apolonius' back stood steady and went to crouch next to her. “Does it work?”

She half-gnome swore under her breath, still trying to get a spark from the fire stone. “No”, she grunted, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “the wood is too wet. Fucking rain … I'm sorry”, she looked up to him, “I searched, but there is no dry wood here. The rain soaked through everything, apparently. I did my best, I promise.”

_If she keeps being so afraid of me, this is gonna be one fun journey._

“Don't worry. It will work.” Eskel sat down on the other side of the fire, moving his hand over the wood. Smoke rose. Then, suddenly, a flame sparked up from the twigs.

Juka stared at the fire, then at him. “How did you do that?”

_Ah. At least that caught her attention._

Eskel winked at her. Moving his hand again, the flame disappeared.

Juka's eyes widened. “How did you do that?”, she repeated, an unbelieving smile spreading across her face.

He smiled and moved his hand again. “ _Igni”_. Once more, the sign ignited the wood, birthing a small flame that danced happily on the now almost dry wood.

“You can make fire by magic?” The young woman's eyes darted between him, his hand and the flame.

Eskel grinned and patted the ground beside him. “Let's sit and talk for a while, before we eat”, he suggested, “haven't spoken all day. How do you feel?”

Juka got up and sat closer to him, keeping a distance between them. “I don't know”, she mumbled, pulling up her knees to her chest and hugging them, “it all seems so unreal. I … I can't believe what's happened. It feels as if I could still go back. Or as if I'm gonna wake up soon. As if this was just another stupid nightmare.”

“Because of me?”

_Lambert would roll his eyes at this. Self-derogatory at its best …_

“Don't be stupid”, she threw him an annoyed look, “this is not funny. I owe you my life. And I have no idea how to repay you.”

“Then don't.”

“Are you kidding me?” The young woman scrambled up to her feet, her hands balled into fists.

_Now she'll finally work it off._

“You … You safe my life, twice actually, if it weren't for you, I'd be dangling from the gallows in the market place now! And you … you don't-”

“Do you want to go back?”

_Careful, Eskel. Don't push her too far._

“No! I …” Juka wrung her hands, then sat down again and pounded the ground with her fist. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

_Okay. We are too far._

“I … I don't understand you.” The half-gnome looked up, wiped her nose with her sleeve and sniveled, “You … you come out of nowhere, everything falls apart, and you pull me out. This is crazy. Why are you doing this? I'm slowing you down, we are not so fast, Apolonius and I. Why are you dragging us along?”

“Because I like you and I didn't want you to die.” Eskel got up and sat next to her, put a hand on her shoulder. “You helped me out when I was in a really bad place, and I wanted to help you, too. You are fast enough. I won't drag you along. We will find a safe place for you to stay, wherever that is. I've been thinking”, he turned and put more wood on the fire, “we could go to Oxenfurt first. Lots of people, lots of opportunities. There is a dwarvish and gnomish community there, as far as I know. Or we try Novigrad.”

“Novigrad is dangerous. Oxenfurt is, too. People hate nonhumans, there have been raids and pogroms ...”

“Then we will find you another place. I want to see you safe. Where would you like to go? Do you have family anywhere where you could stay?”

Juka shook her head. “All my family is gone.”

“And your mother?”

Immediately he knew that he had made a mistake.

“My mother is dead.” Her face was stoney, her voice like ice.

_There you go, Eskel. Fucked it up._

She looked up and into his eyes. “Drop me off in Novigrad or Oxenfurt or wherever you'd like to go first. You need to earn money, and you cannot earn anything if I am slowing you down.”

_We will see._

“We'll talk about that later.” Eskel got up, stretching himself, “now, I don't know about you, but I am practically starving. Shall we eat?”

“Do you have food?”

“Yes, and you had, too. I took the liberty to check your saddlebags, I hope that was okay ...”

“It's fine, really.” The young woman got up herself now, wiping her face and smearing more soot on her sleeve. “I'll get the food. And there must be a little stream somewhere ...”

“I heard it. I'll go and fetch us some water.” The Witcher went over to Scorpion and took a small pot out of one of the saddlebags. He had almost disappeared into darkness completely when he heard her call his name.

“Yes?”

“Thank you, Eskel.” A shy smile had appeared on Juka's face. “For … saving me. Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

_Finally._

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is not a happy chapter.

Juka had already pulled everything up to the fire when Eskel returned with the water. She was distributing the food, as suddenly, Scorpion appeared behind her.

_If he bites her, we'll be in serious trouble._

He had just opened his mouth to warn her, when the stallion nudged her on the shoulder and she whipped around, letting out a relieved sigh when the horse nudged her again and gave a small snort.

“You gave me quite the scare”, he heard her say. She held up her hand to let Scorpion sniff it and petted the horse's nose, “still know me, huh? Sorry for slowing you down so much, Apolonius isn't as fast as you.”

The horse gave another snort, reaching over her shoulder and sniffing the apples Juka had laid out on a cloth.

“I don't know if I'm allowed to feed you, my friend”, looking into the direction Eskel had disappeared, “I don't know if he'd be really fond of tha- _hey_!”

The horse had come one step further, reached over her shoulder and was just about to snatch one of the apples, when Eskel strode to the fire, clanking against the full pot.

_OH no. Let's nip that right in the bud.  
_

“What kind of news is that?”, he grumbled, putting the pot down and pulling the stallion's head up by the snaffle, “since when do you eat _my_ food? And hers?”

Scorpion shook his head and whinnied, stomping the ground with the front hooves.

“I'm sorry”, Juka had staggered to her feet and put a hand on his arm, “I should have taken them out later. I bet he thought these were for him, because I gave him some at the … earlier.” She looked to the ground.  
  
“I don't doubt it”, he replied, a smile creeping across his face, “but as you said: You _gave_ him some, he isn't supposed to _help_ himself.”

The Witcher let go of the snaffle and patted the horse's nose, “off you go. There is enough grass for two horses like you, and three donkeys. It's not like you never had anything to eat before.”

Scorpion nudged his scarred cheek and trotted off, giving a small whinny.

_It always sounds like he's laughing to himself._  
  
  


Eskel shook his head and busied himself with the pot. “Alright, so we have the water, and I smelled tea leaves when I was getting your parcels – how about tea?”

_Tea is always good._

Juka nodded and grabbed a small leather pouch that had been sitting on top of the beer barrel. Deftly, she untied the knot at the top and threw a handful of tea leaves into the pot, where they started to dance in the water immediately.

“We can eat the pastries cold”, she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “would that be alright?”

“Absolutely.” Eskel took out his knife and started to cut slices from the loaf of bread, “help yourself to whatever your want. Seriously. We've got more than enough.” He threw some more twigs on the fire, watching the water that was now bubbling away happily and went to get two leather tankards from the saddlebags.

 

Juka held her head down, slowly sipping her tea, while Eskel ate his way through a quarter of the loaf, an apple and a pastry.

“Aren't you hungry?”, he finally asked, helping himself to a second slice of cheese.

“I cannot eat.” Her voice was small. Shortly after accepting the tankard, she had slipped into her traveling cloak. Despite it being her size, she was more slender than whoever had been wearing it before her, and she almost disappeared into it, “I'm not hungry.”

_Not good._

Eskel shook his head. “I bet you are. What was your last meal? Must've been breakfast, right? And you have been riding and walking all day.”

“I can't … I can't eat now.” Juka hung her head, set the tankard down and hugged her knees, “I have no appetite.”

_Definitely not good._

Eskel got up and went to sit beside her.

“Does your stomach hurt?”

“No.”

“Is it really just lack of appetite? Because I do not believe that.”

“I just … How can I eat now?” Juka raised her head, her eyes were swimming in tears again, “how can I pretend that everything is normal? They are dead, and they were murdered because of me, and-”

“No. Juka, stop.”

“-and how can I sit here, with you, stuffing my face with food and drinking tea as if nothing had happened as if we only had gone for a fucking picnic?” Tears were rolling down her cheeks again. She put her head on her arms and started to sob.

_Her whole body is shaking. Shit._

Eskel hesitated for a moment, then reached out and pulled her into a hug. She sank against him, and he felt his shirt getting wet from her tears.

_Gonna let her take her time._

Finally, she seemed to calm down a bit, and Eskel put a hand on her shoulder. “Juka? Look at me. Your mistress and her family were murdered because I hurt Barnaby's pride.”

“Maybe”, she wiped her nose with her sleeve, “but it was me who hit him in the face.”

“That doesn't matter for men like Barnaby. Listen, I … I have seen many men like him.”

She looked into his eyes now, her face earnest.

“Men like Barnaby”, Eskel stretched his legs, “will feel threatened or belittled by trifles. He would have hurt and abused Priscilla for the rest of her life. And he will abuse and hurt his people once he becomes the lord.”

“So he did her a favour in killing her?” She swallowed down a hick-up.

“No. But ...”, he put a hand onto her forearm, “it wasn't your fault. That's what I wanted to say. Your blow was bad for his pride, yes, but it was me who grabbed him by the lapels and lifted him up. He was terrified when I did that. He almost pissed himself, I could smell his fear.”

“You did the right thing though”, she murmured.

The Witcher nodded. “I did what I thought was the lesser evil. But often, there is no such thing as lesser. You cannot always decide between good or bad. You wanted to stand up for Priscilla. You acted with the best intentions, and that is honourable.

And speaking of honouring ...” Eskel lent forward to grab a chunk of bread and a small slice of cheese, “you have to eat, Juka. Starving yourself won't bring them back. I know it sounds harsh. If you want to keep the memory alive, you have to live. Live and honour them.”

_Great Eskel. Just the right time for grand speeches._

He held out the food for her, “Eat. You don't have to eat it all, but just a bit.”

The half-gnome nodded and took the cheese and bread. “Thank you”, she whispered, “for putting up with me.” She started to eat, slowly, but it was clear that she had been hungry.

The Witcher watched her for a moment, then went back to sit on his side of the fire.

_Gotta take care of that jacket._

He took it off and rummaged in one of the bags, until he found the tools he needed. He spread out the jacket on his legs and started repairing the torn parts.

For a while, nothing was to be heard.

 

Eskel just happened to look up when suddenly, he saw a flash of light coming from Juka's side of the fire.

_What the …_

He only saw the blade in her hand, moving to her throat, before he dropped the jacket and dived full length over the fire. Slamming her shoulders onto the ground, he landed on top of her; her left hand opened and the knife fell to the ground.

“Are you completely mad?!”

“You're asking _me_?” Eskel raised his eyebrows, “when _you_ are the one trying to cut your throat?”

“I wasn't trying to kill myself!”, the young woman struggled under him and tried to push him away, “let me go! I wasn't trying to kill myself!”

The Witcher sat up and took the knife. “That's not funny. What were you trying to do? Going for a shave?”

Juka tried to snatch the blade from him, but Eskel held it out of her reach. “No. You tell me first. Didn't pick you up to bury you out in the sticks.”

“It is a gnomish custom!” Juka held out her hand, “please. Give it back. This is my knife, my father made it for me. You can sit here, right next to me. I will not hurt myself. I promise.”

_Not happy about this._

“If you do something funny, I'll stun you”, he realised his voice had turned into a growl but didn't care about it, “I mean it.”

“That won't be necessary.” The young woman swept her braid over her right shoulder with a flick of her head; grabbing the knife, she set the blade to the braid closely under her chin and cut it off with a swift move of her wrist.

_ What the ... _

Juka removed the leather band that held the braid together at the lower end and kissed her hair, murmuring something in Gnomish. She pressed it to her forehead for a moment, then threw it into the fire. The brief stink of burned hair hit Eskel's nose; then it was gone. Before he could say anything, she grabbed the shawl that he had laid beside her and tossed it into the flames as well.

“It is a mourning custom”, Juka had turned her head to look at him. Her hair, which had already looked mismatched before, now made her look like a madwoman, but her voice was calm and she seemed composed again, “something of me dies, too.”

“Then why burn the shawl?”

“Why should I keep it? Who should I give it to? It would only bring bad luck to the woman who would wear it.”

Eskel couldn't think of anything to say to that. For a moment, they looked into each other's eyes – then, the Witcher nodded and went back to sit on his side of the fire.

 


	23. Chapter 23

The next morning dawned to be just as grey as the day before. They didn't speak much while they packed everything up and onto the horse's and donkey's backs. Eskel found himself stealing looks at the young woman working silently beside him.

 _Wonder if she slept at all_ .

The soot and sorrow had left her marks in her face; combined with her new haircut, it made her look positively grotesque. She seemed to guess his thoughts though, for she disappeared shortly into the direction of the river and returned with a clean face and clean hands.

“Better?” she gave him a small smile and went over to secure the beer barrel to Apolonius' back. Eskel followed her and stepped on the donkey's other side, helping to hold the straps in place.

He returned the smile. “You just look … different. It's kind of a pity that you cut that braid.”

_Eskel ..._

Juka shrugged and stroked Apolonius' cheek, who closed his eyes and seemed to enjoy the petting, “it's just hair. It will grow back in time. Oh, speaking of hair … could I ask you a favor?”

“Depends”. Eskel tilted his head. “What is it?”

“Well ...”, the young woman picked up the pouch with the tea leaves and stuffed it into the basket, “you do shave, right? Do you think I could borrow your razor? It won't take long.”

_What is it now?_

 

“What do you need the razor for?” The Witcher furrowed his brow and crossed his arms.

“It will take only a minute. I just want to shave the hair in some spots.”

“That will make you look as if you had some sort of illness.”

“Yes, that's the plan”, Juka's smile was grim, “travel is a lot safer if people are scared they'll catch something when they touch you or your stuff.”

 _Hell, no_.

“Well, there won't be any need for you to make yourself look diseased”, Eskel shook his head, “first, you're traveling with me. Second, this would prevent us from getting space in an inn, and I'm not intending to sleep outside all the time.”

“In an _inn_?”, she eyed him.

“Yeah. Don't sleep in the stable if I can help it.” He turned around to check that his bedroll was properly secured on Scorpion's back.

“So ...” Juka was gathering the last supplies, “when you think we'll reach Oxenfurt?”

Eskel mused for a moment, calculating the distance in his head. “Depends on how fast we are. Given the speed yesterday … Either tonight or tomorrow. We'll see.”

“Then … You really want to take me with you?”

Surprised, he looked at her. “Sure. I said that. I stand by my word. I will stay with you until you are someplace safe. Did you make up your mind where that is?”

The young woman bit her lip. “Well ...”

“It doesn't matter. There is still time. Might be that Oxenfurt is just the place for you.” He gave her his small smile and grabbed the saddle horn. “Shall we?”

Juka nodded and mounted Apolonius' back. “Alright.”

“Oh, and by the way”, he pulled on the stallion's reigns to direct Scorpion to her side, reaching into his pocket and pulling out one of the leftover apples, “Eat. We will make rest a bit later, but you didn't have a proper meal yesterday. Mustn't pass out on horseback – even if it's a donkey.”

The young woman's eyes shone with surprise, but she accepted the fruit without a word and started to wolf it down.

_So she IS hungry. Good._

They kept a steady pace. Just as the day before, Juka walked whenever Apolonius slowed down, but by early afternoon she started to stumble, and almost fell off the donkey's back twice, only waking up in time because Eskel would shout or whistle a warning.

_She needs to sleep. Even if it's only for a bit._

Bringing his horse to a halt, Eskel dismounted and gestured towards a large rock. “Let's make rest there, shall we? I'm hungry. … Didn't get too much sleep last night either.”

Again, Juka simply nodded and pulled on Apolonius' reigns.

The Witcher untied his bedroll and dropped it onto the rock; then he opened his saddlebags and fetched the food.

“I'm gonna get some water – there is a stream somewhere near, I can hear it”, he said, handing her the bundle and gesturing to the basket, “will you start getting the food out? We won't make a fire now, but if we keep that pace, we'll reach Oxenfurt tonight, and then we'll have some real dinner, stew or something.”

“I'll see to it.” Juka's eyes were small with tiredness and her motions slow, but she got to work immediately.

Eskel took down the pot and gave her a friendly nod “Alright. Be right back.”

_She really needs a break. Maybe I can train after we've eaten, so she can catch up on some sleep …_

Frowning, he thought back to the night before. He had stayed awake to make sure that the fire wouldn't go out – he had found traces of Drowners and Water Hags around the stream when he had gotten the water and hadn't been too fond of a real confrontation, but everything had stayed calm. Sitting upright, watching the fire, he had listened to Juka's breathing - she had cried again at some point, silently, but he had decided against getting up and trying to comfort her. This was something she had to work out on her own, and while he could keep her company, it was her who had to come to terms with it after all. Finally, in the small hours of the night, her breath had finally steadied and she had fallen into a fitful sleep, rolled into a small bundle in her oversized travel cloak, a truly pitiful sight.

_Well, there's nothing you could do for her._

 

He found the stream, filled the pot, and then took his time to stretch and take a good, long piss.

_Hope we have a roof over our heads tonight._

Washing his hands, he checked the surroundings and spotted some chickweed nearby; he plucked some handfuls of the small green leaves, stuffing his pockets with them.

_Might come in handy one day … Time to get back to the camp, see how she's doing._   
  


He needn't have worried about her, he realized when the rock came into sight – she was lying in the grass, rolled into a small bundle again, fast asleep. Silently, Eskel sat the pot down, shook out his bedroll and covered her with it.

_At least, she's warm now._

While he waited for her to wake up, he fetched a small leather pouch out of the left saddle bag and filled it with the chickweed leaves; then he sat down to eat another pastry, a few more slices of the bread, and cheese. Afterwards, he watched the clouds and meditated for a little while.

  
When he woke up from the trance, she was still unconscious.

_Might as well train for a bit. Half an hour, then we'll have to go if we want to reach the city gates tonight._

Drawing his sword, he walked until he had made what he felt was a sufficient distance, then brought his sword into a riposte. He closed his eyes, steadied his breath and started to go through the first set of motions, concentrating on how he set his feet, the steadiness of his arm, then, in the second set, speed and strike power, ending his set with a jump.

“ _HAH_!”

_Shit. I forgot. Shouldn't have shouted._

He turned around to find her wide awake. Juka was sitting cross-legged on the stone, her face a mixture of fascination and fear.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sheathed his sword and slowly made his way back to her.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“I wasn't asleep.” She was still studying his face, he could hear her heart beating loudly in her chest, “I've been watching for a while. I hope ...”, she blushed, “I hope you don't mind.”

“...No. Guess not.”

_What to make of that?_

“So? What's in your head right now? What do you think?” Making sure he kept at least two feet of distance to her, he went over to where he had sat the pot, lifted it and drank.

“I think”, there was a hint of a smile in her voice, “that I am very, very lucky that you are on my side.”

He chuckled. He hadn't meant to, but he couldn't help it, and when he looked at her, he was pleasantly surprised to see that the fear had disappeared from her face.

“You are”, he said, and now it was  _him_ smiling at _her_. Sitting down, he gestured over to the food. “Did you eat something? Sleep seems to have done you good.”

Juka nodded, her face becoming earnest again. “I ate a bit of cheese”, she said, looking to the ground.

Eskel shook his head.

_She needs to snap out of the guilt. It won't help her to heal._

“Good. You need your strength, we still have a bit of way ahead of us”, he said.

“Shall we go now?”

“If you're ready.”

“Almost.” She replied, looking embarrassed all of a sudden, “I only need to … Well … It will only take a minute!”

“Take your time. Water is in that direction. I'll gather the food and pack everything.”

Juka nodded, her face still blushed, and disappeared. Eskel started to break up the camp, rolled up his bedroll and tied it to Scorpion's saddle again, making sure to keep his back to her.

 

He was ready when she returned, but instead of climbing onto Apolonius' back, she got a small purse from her belt and shook out some coins before she stuffed it into her boot – the spare coins wandered into several pockets in her shirt and trousers. Lastly, she slipped on her travel cloak and pulled up the hood.

The Witcher watched her, a small amused smile on his face.

“Don't you think that's a little over-cautious?”

“You'll see”, she answered darkly, now mounting the donkey, “you haven't seen people react to me.”

_Can't be worse than their reactions to me._

 

Instead of replying, he mounted the stallion and they both set off. For once, the sun was breaking through the clouds.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start with this chapter, I would like to thank everyone for their patience. THANK YOU to everybody who left Kudos, a comment or simply enjoyed reading this little story of mine.
> 
> A very special thanks goes out to Roxane - your comment meant the world to me and was the reassurance I desperately needed when I was afraid that nobody would be interested in this anymore. This chapter is for you. I hope you enjoy it. :)

“Name? Any wares to declare? What's your business in Oxenfurt?”

The guards' voices rang loud and clear through the evening air. Eskel shifted his weight in the saddle.

_Been waiting for almost two hours now._

 

They had arrived in the late hours of the afternoon – he had asked Juka whether she wanted to rest a second time, but they had agreed that it would be better to reach the city as early as possible.

_Good thing we did that._

Eskel cast a look at Juka; the half-gnome was sitting rigidly on the donkey's back, wrapped in her travel cloak, her face barely visible. Her finger traced the donkey's fur absent-mindedly, and she had barely spoken during the last hour, only giving short answers to his questions.

Softly, he nudged Scorpion to the right; the stallion followed his command immediately, trotting over to the donkey, who looked up with the same calm look on his face as ever. The animals nuzzled their noses against each other, snorting softly.

“Feeling alright?” Eskel stretched out his arm and carefully laid his hand on Juka's shoulder.

She flinched, then reached for her hood and pulled it aside a bit so she could see his face.

_Worried._

“It depends.” Juka bit her lower lip, then cast another look at the guards, who were consulting a letter the merchant in front had handed them. One of them went to the guardhouse and returned with the commander a few minutes later. A heated discussion broke out.

“What's your problem?” Eskel furrowed his brow and stretched in the saddle.

“I …” Juka took a look around.

_If she keeps being so nervous, they're gonna be suspicious as hell. Won't let her in like that._

“I have no idea what I'm gonna answer them. I don't have any wares. I only came to Oxenfurt because I have nowhere else to go, but that won't be good enough. What should I say?” Her eyes were big with fear, searching his face.

The Witcher gave her his little smile. “Well, _I_ usually say that I am looking for work. That's enough.”

Juka snorted with disbelief. “Yeah, well … One look into your face is enough to tell them what kind of work you're searching for.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “Sorry, but ...”

“Well”, Eskel scratched his neck, “tell them you seek employment at the university. They always need people in the kitchens and for cleaning.”

_That's not a bad idea at all._

Juka looked at him, a surprised look on her face: “That's … not even half bad! Do you think I could apply?”

He shrugged and nodded shortly. “Sure. Never hurts to try.” Furrowing his brow, he watched the queue in front of the gates. “Hope they get a move on so we get in tonight”, he grumbled, pulling on Scorpion's reigns.

“ _And_ find a place to sleep”, Juka added. She looked at him again. “How expensive is a room in Oxenfurt?”

Eskel shook his head. “No idea. Been some time since I've been here last … Prices are higher than in Velen; and you will have to ask if they take your money.”

A nasty flash of shock appeared on the young woman's face. “They won't accept my coin?!”

_Well done, Eskel. As if she hadn't been anxious enough already._

The Witcher sighed. “Don't worry about that. They _might_ accept it – it depends on the inn and the innkeep. And you can always exchange your money for farthings – that's the currency here.” He reached out to touch her arm, but stopped the motion midway, his arm hanging in the air for a moment, before he thought of scratching the back of his head. “Relax, Juka. Have you never had to exchange money when you were back in Mahakam?”

The half-gnome shook her head. “I don't remember that”, she replied softly, nudging Apolonius forward, as the merchant's wagon finally rolled through the gates and into the city, its owner making a very rude hand gesture towards the guards, “my father took me to the capital once, when I was little. There was a fair … We bought candied apples and watched a small dog ride on a pig and some jesters … but I didn't pay attention to money. I don't think we have more than one, but my village was very small.”

“I didn't meant to bring back sad memories”, Eskel said after a moment of silence, reaching out and touching her shoulder, this time for real, “I'm sorry.”

Juka shook her head. “It's alright”, she said, although he could hear that it wasn't, “that was long ago, even when I left.”

“And … when you left Mahakam … Didn't you have to get the currency of Velen?”

“I didn't have a place to exchange anything when I came to Velen. Our house … I have worked in exchange for food or a place to sleep ever since. The coin I have is Velen – from what my mistress gave me – and a bit from Mahakam” Juka looked over to the city gates where the guards were now interrogating a small group of travellers with hooded cloaks and staves, “I guess I simply have to see if anyone accepts it.”

“Don't worry about that. Plenty of dwarves in Oxenfurt.”

_The sooner it's our turn, the better._

 

It took the better part of the next hour, but finally, Eskel put his heels softly into Scorpion's sides and the stallion made a few steps forward, halting in front of the guards. Beside him, Juka was doing the same.

The man in front of him gave him a suspicious look. He stank of sweat and dirt. “Well … Witcher … What do you want in Oxenfurt?”

Eskel didn't move a muscle. “I'm searching for work.”

The man scratched his head. “Dunno if there's work for you ...”

Eskel smiled his little smile. “There is always work for me.” He adjusted the swords on his back with a shrug.

“... Alright then. You may pass.” The guard swallowed, eyeing him, and turning to Juka. “What about _you_?”, he snapped.

_Ahhh, yes. NOW you've got a big mouth ..._

Juka swallowed. “I-”

“ _Take off the damn hood!_ I want to see your face.”

The half-gnome sighed. Hesitantly, she grabbed her hood and pulled it off.

_That haircut DOES make her look weird._

The guard furrowed his brow and eyed her suspiciously. “Get down from that donkey's back.”

Juka obeyed at once. Without saying a word, she slid off Apolonius' back and stepped in front of the guard.

The man circled her once.

Twice.

Then he turned around.

“Fetch me the commander!”, he bellowed, planting himself in front of the half-gnome, who was standing upright, but didn't meet his eye.

Eskel cleared his throat. “I can vouch for her, if you like. I have travelled with her and I can assure you-”

“I don't give a SHIT about your word, Witcher!” The guard spat onto the ground, “I don't care what you can assure me or who you travel with.”

“Well-”, the elderly, wealthy-looking merchant who had been queueing up behind them cleared his throat, “maybe, while you are waiting, you could check on me and my wife, so we can get into the city?! We have an important appointment there tomorrow, and-”

_Oh, for fuck's sake._

“YOU will wait until it's your turn!”

_Now THAT is one bad breath._

The merchant drew himself up to full height. “EXCUSE me? _I_ am a guest of Lord Dijkstra, and I am _very_ sure that he will be _extremely_ interested in-”

“What is the matter again?” His breastplate shining in the sun, the commander came up to them. He was a tall man, and his legs were taking long strides.

“ _I_ have been gotten held up for a whole day!” the merchant dismounted and shoved Juka aside; she stumbled, steadying herself by grabbing her donkey's reigns. “ _I_ have a _very important_ meeting with Lord Dijkstra tomorrow and-”

_Enough._

Eskel slowly turned his head. “Excuse me. But you will _wait_ until we're _done_.” He stared at the man and adjusted his swords with a shrug.

The merchant went white in the face. Muttering something unintelligible, he stumbled backwards, back to his wife who had covered her mouth with her hand and was staring wide-eyed at Eskel.

The Witcher raised an eyebrow and looked them up and down; he dismounted and went to stand beside Juka, who was being eyed by the guard and the commander.

“What's up with her?”

“Well ...” The guard scratched himself behind the ears, “look at her! The nose, the ears … Something is WRONG with that misfit!” He spat on the ground. “Didn't say anything when she came up to me! I interrogated _him_ , he jabbed a finger at Eskel, careful not to meet his eyes, “and then she was sitting on that fucking donkey's back, not saying a word, having that hood drawn over her face! Gotta be damned if she's no Scoia'tael.” He spat on the ground again.

“Well”, the commander put his hand under Juka's chin and lifted her head up, carefully examining her features, “she DOES not look fully human.” He furrowed his brow. “You're not a half-elf, are ya.”

“No.” The young woman's voice was small, and her eyes had grown big with fear.

“What then? You're no elf, you're far too ugly for that.” He gave a short laugh that was clearly not humorous.

“I'm a half-gnome.” Juka took a deep breath and steadied herself, “My father was-”

“There are no half-gnomes, everybody knows that. Elves' been the only ones to fuck with us and have offspring.” The commander let go of her chin and scratched the grey stubbles on his head; then he folded his arms in front of his chest. “You hair looks weird.”

“I had lice.” Juka held her head down.

“And now you're thinking of spreading your lice in Oxenfurt?”

“The last time I was here”, Eskel intervened, making a small step forward and crossing his arms in front of his chest as well, “there were enough lice in Oxenfurt without the need of further addition. Her lice won't make a big difference. They'll probably have _relatives_ among those living in the city.”

The commander looked up to him. “And YOU are?”

Eskel gave him the tiniest bow of his head. “Eskel. Witcher. I'm searching for work in Oxenfurt.”

“We do not have work for the likes of you in Oxenfurt.”

“There is always something lurking in the shadows.”

The commander nodded. “Anything else?”

Eskel raised an eyebrow and shifted his weight. “I also want to buy ingredients. University has the best stocks in whole Redania.”

The commander nodded again. “Alright.” He took a deep breath and turned to the half-gnome once more. “So, you are ugly and not quite right in the head. Not that it would have been _necessary_ to summon me to see that”, he gave the guard a look that made the man cringe, “What do _you_ want in Oxenfurt?”

Juka swallowed and look up to Eskel. “I'm searching for work”, she said.

The guard started to laugh. “No whorehouse is gonna take you! Not with your-”

“I don't want to work as a whore!”

_Wow. That hit a nerve._

Juka had balled her hands into fists. Her eyes were throwing sparks. “I want to apply at the university. I can do laundry and dishes, scrub the floors. I can clean and make beds, and cook meals. I-”

“Well, as impressive as that sounds”, the commander interrupted her, “you won't get lucky with us. Oxenfurt doesn't employ nonhumans anymore. Not since the Scoia'tael.”

The young woman's eyes went wide with shock. “I am no Scoia'tael”, she stuttered, “I mean LOOK at me! Would I come up to your gate if I was? Would I-”

“What do _we_ know about what goes around in your ugly little head!” The guard snorted with disdain, “fuck off and don't come up again – or you will get _right_ to the centre of Oxenfurt – right up to the gallows.” He gave her a nasty grin.

Juka swallowed hard. “I can _still_ work”, she finally managed, “I can read and write. I can raise children. Surely there are people who are in need of a housekeeper?”

“And if all else fails”, Eskel put a hand on Juka's shoulder, “she _is_ with me, after all. Pay me the coin and I will get rid of her if she makes any trouble.”

The commander scrutinized them for a moment. “Very well”, he finally said, “you may pass. Try and find your luck – not your fault that you're ugly as hell.” He took a step closer and pointed his finger at her. “But if you make any trouble – _anything_ , no matter how small – we _will_ pay the Witcher and have you up on the gallows, make no mistake. Is that understood?”

“Understood.” Juka nodded and took a deep breath.

“Fine. Off you go then. Anything to declare?”

“No.” The half-gnome shook her head. “I have food in these baskets. And some small wares to sell. You may take a look if you want to.”

The commander nodded and waved his hand – the guard went through the baskets, took out the bag of tea and stuffed it into his pocket.

Juka didn't say anything, but Eskel saw the corners of her mouth twitch once. He gave the guard a cold stare – the man responded with a broad grin.

_If it makes you feel any better._

“If all else fails, go to the harbour.” The commander turned around to Juka once more. “Some men will pay for anything that's … new.” He nodded curtly and disappeared into the watch house again.

Juka put a lose strand of hair behind her hear and bit her lower lip.

“What are you waiting for? GO! Out of the way!” Pulling on Apolonius' reigns, the guard shoved Juka out of the way once more, throwing Eskel a dirty look and stepping in front of the merchant and his wife.

“Name? Any wares to declare? What's your business in Oxenfurt?”

“Come on”, Eskel grabbed Scorpion's reigns and nodded towards the gates, “let's go, before this idiot changes his mind again.”

Juka nodded. Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she took the donkey's reigns in her hand and together they walked into Oxenfurt.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,  
> I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the lovely comments, the head-ups, and the encouragement.  
> I also owe you a big apology for having kept you waiting for so long - life was crazy, but I try to better myself and publish more frequently. Thank you so much for not letting me down!
> 
> This is for all of your who have come to love Eskel and Juka - and who are looking forward to their adventures. :) Special greetings go out to Daisy SixSpeed, who can hopefully fill her tummy with the new chapter. :)
> 
> UPDATE: After some very wise words from Fen, I have decided that I WILL continue to write comments. If this means that this fic gets 1000+ comments, fine. So be it. I do not do this to get more clicks or whatever. But Fen is right - if I comment on people's work, I'd like to see it appreciated. And I value everybody so highly who clicks the "Kudos" button or actually takes the time to write a comment, and if you just want to read the new chapter and then be on your way, that's fine, too! I l love you all, and I feel very, very blessed by your support. :)

The city was - loud.

One very cold winter night, when there had not been anything else to do besides getting drunk, Geralt and him had entertained themselves by trying to find words that described the free cities and the Northern Kingdoms in a nutshell.

Novigrad had been “snobbish”.

Elander had been “herbs”.

Skellige had been “Blue”.

Oxenfurt was “Noise”.

_And right we were. Ugh._

 

Voices were everywhere. Dusk was settling, but still the streets were swarming with people: Merchants setting up their booths. Merchants emptying and closing down their booths and shops to go home. Strollers. Drunkards on their way to the next tavern. Drunkards on their way home. Beggars. Rich people in carriages, wrinkling their noses at the beggars. Poor people, shooting admiring, hateful or envious looks at the rich people's carriages. And, most of all, students. Everybody was laughing, talking or shouting, and from the gutters rose a mixture of rotten food, piss, and sweat that bit into Eskel's nose.

Holding Scorpion by the snaffle, he made his way through the crowds. Quite a few people were riding, but he was glad to stretch his legs, move around, and the stallion seemed to be happy with their arrangement as well. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Juka kept up with him, grabbing Apolonius' reigns tightly and walking next to his side.

 

“HEYA HEY!”

_What the-_

Scorpion shook his mane and let out a shrill whinny as a carriage came racing up behind them, the horses galloping at full speed.

“Shhh, my friend. It's fine.” Raising his hand, Eskel casted the Axii-sign – at once, the stallion calmed down, snorting softly. Eskel patted his neck and stroked the mane. “It's okay, Scorpion. It's okay. Just some rich idiot. Nothing to worry about.”

Somebody touched his hand.

_What-_

Turning his head, the surprise made him loosen his grip on the stallion snaffle.

“Juka? What's wrong?”

The half-gnome blushed. Juka was standing right next to him, her arm brushing against his. She quickly withdrew her hand and cast her look down, biting her lower lip. “I-I'm sorry … I ...” She took a deep breath. “It's just … There are so many people here, plus that idiot in the carriage and it's so loud and noisy and ...” Her voice dropped, “I-I was afraid I might lose you in the crowd”.

_Oh._

“Well ...” Eskel scratched his neck, looking at her, “I ...”

_I forgot. Of course. Velen is not as crowded._

“It's alright.” Juka shook her head, “I am sorry. This was incredibly stupid, I-” She looked into his eyes. “Forgive me. It will not happen again.”

Eskel shook his head. “It's not stupid. I'm sorry, Juka. I forgot that this must be a shock. Let's move over there”, he gestured to a small well that seemed to be one of the quieter spots, “and we'll rest for a minute.”

Juka nodded, a relieved smile spreading over her face. “Thanks.”

 

At the well, Eskel tethered Scorpion's reigns to a ring on a small post. “You hungry?”

The young woman pet the donkey's ear. “A bit … More tired, to be honest.” She looked around. “Do you want to leave me here? I mean-”, she shrugged, “we _are_ in Oxenfurt.”

Eskel looked her over. “Do you want me to leave?”, he asked, raising his eyebrows.

_That would be an awkward ending to the story._

Juka looked up. “N-no!” She blushed. “I just thought … well … you don't have to drag me along.”

The Witcher sighed. “I am _not_ dragging you along. Told you that already. But if you want me to leave ...”, he hesitated, “I'll be off.”

Juka bit her lower lip. “... do you think it's true? What the guard said?”

Eskel shook his head. “No. You won't have to go to the harbour.”

“No... not that.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shifted her weight from one foot to another. “About the university. That they won't employ nonhumans for the cleaning staff anymore.” She turned her head, looking at a couple that was strolling through the street, holding hands.

Eskel stretched himself. “Dunno … We'll find out in the morning. Besides”, he followed her gaze and shook his head, “you _are_ half human. That might make a difference, after all.”

Juka gave a small snort. “Of course it might.” She looked at him, her eyes gleaming. “Have you forgotten how they treated me at the gate?” She took a deep breath. “It is always the same, wherever I go. People will suspect that I steal, that I tell lies, that I am dirty, lazy, and ….” She blushed and mumbled something. “And that's all because, well, I cannot help it, right? My father _is_ a nonhuman, after all. And if they _do_ see that I _am_ true, and honest, that I work hard and stand by my word … it's all for naught again, because my human side might have gotten the upper hand for a moment.” She crossed her arms and stared at the ground.

_That sounds really bitter._

Eskel scratched his neck. “Well, I suggest that we get out of the city centre and try to find a small inn that will take us. Tomorrow, we'll go to the university and see how that goes, mhm? And then-”

“Excuse me?”

 

Eskel turned his head. The question had come from a middle-aged, bearded man in a brown cloak, who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking back and forth between Eskel and Juka.

Taking a small step back, Eskel bowed his head a bit. “Are we taking up too much space here? I am sorry, we'll-” he furrowed his brow. “Excuse me, but you do look familiar.”

A broad smile spread over the man's face. “Ahh, my memory has not failed me!” He made a step closer, extending his right hand, “I thought it was you. I'd recognise that jacket everywhere!” He gave a light bow. “Philibert Merryweather – we have met at my inn a few years ago.”

_Ahhh._

Eskel smiled. “I do remember you, Master Merryweather.” He furrowed his brow. “But we've met in Aldersberg, if I remember correctly. What are you doing in Oxenfurt?” He shook the man's hand, who looked now relieved and delighted.

Philibert Merryweather chuckled. “Ah, well, you _do_ remember correctly, Master Elkest-”  
  
“Eskel.”

“-Eskel. Of course. I'm sorry.” The man smiled apologetically, “Well, my wife's parents are old, and two years ago, they asked us to come and stay with them, now that the children are older … And so we packed it all up and now we are here! Luckily, an innkeep can take his business wherever he wants – people need food and a place to sleep everywhere.” He winked at Juka, who had kept herself close to Apolonius during the conversation, combing through the donkey's fur. “As I said – I recognised that jacket and then I heard your voice and was sure that you were the very Witcher who helped us get rid of that monster lurking in the graveyard – you know, the one that was stealing the children ..."

Eskel nodded. “The grave hag. I do remember.”

“Yes! That one. And what can I say, I come nearer and I hear your voice and you saying something about needing a place to sleep for the night and I say to myself: 'Merrywheather, here you have the opportunity to repay a bit of your neighbours' unkindness.” He straightened himself. “Because you _saved_ our children. They should have behaved more decently.”

_Damn straight._

“People rarely behave decently around Witchers”, Eskel replied, an amused smile playing around his lips. “Does that mean you have a place for us to stay?”

Merryweather beamed. “Exactly that. Come now! My house will always be yours, and your little friend”, he gave Juka a smile and winked at Eskel, “will be welcome, too.”

Juka stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You are offering us a place at your inn?”

The man made a small bow. “Yes. I do. It is not as elegant as some other houses here – but the food is good.” He winked at her, “and the beds are clean.”

_Well. Talk about getting lucky._

Juka sighed with relief and bowed deeply. “Thank you so much, Master Merryweather”, she said. “That is incredibly kind of you.” She put her hand in one of her pockets and handed him a coin. “Would you accept this as payment? Or could you please tell me where I can exchange it?”

The innkeep took the coin and looked at it curiously. “Is that – Mahakam?”, he asked, looking at Juka, who nodded, “well, I haven't seen them around much … We'll have to talk to my wife.” He looked up at Eskel. “Well? What do you say, Master Eskel? Are you coming with us to stay?”

Eskel untethered Scorpion's reigns and looked at Juka, who had a hopeful smile on her face. “Gladly, Master Merryweather. We will be honoured to stay with you.”

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! Thank you all for your ongoing support, be it likes, kudos or commentary - thank you so much! You're the best, my friends, I hope you enjoy the new chapter. :) All the love!

The inn Philibert Merryweather led them to was a small house at the outer wall of Oxenfurt, bearing a polished sign that read “The Merry Goat”.

On their way, the innkeep frequently greeted neighbours, bidding people a good night, bowing his head and exchanging pleasantries with bypassers.

“You seem to be quite popular among your neighbourhood”, Eskel remarked.

Merryweather nodded proudly. “I dare say so, Master Eskel! We lead a decent house, a proper inn! Of course it is popular!”

Juka swallowed. “A proper inn”, she repeated under her breath, snivelling and grasping Apolonius' reigns a bit tighter.

The Witcher shot her a worried look, but her face remained steady as she addressed the innkeep now for the first time during their walk.

“So, how many people are working at your inn, Master Merryweather?”

The inkeep straightened himself and smiled at her winningly. “Well, so far, there are three people here, little mistress”, he said, scratching his beard. “My wife is in the kitchen, I brew the beer and serve, and our eldest helps her mother with the cooking and the cleaning.”

The half-gnome nodded. “And business goes well, I suppose?”

Merryweather beamed. “I daresay it does!”, he announced, “people are making their way though the city centre just to get a room at our house! Mostly, it's wealthier merchants, or families-”, he lowered his voice, “you know, people who expect a certain standard. No whores in our taproom - if you know what I mean ...” He cleared his throat and shot Eskel an apologetic glance.

Juka pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. “It's a beautiful inn”, she said. “I mean – you have put a lot of work into the place, one can see this just from looking at the house.”

Eskel felt a smile spread over his face; he turned to Scorpion and tugged softly on the snaffle.

_Don't make it too obvious, Juka._

The inkeep, however, did not seem to mind her flattery. “Wait 'til you see the interiors, little Mistress!”, he answered, stroking his beard and lengthening his strides, “a more than pleasant surprise will await you, I'm sure of it!”

Juka simply nodded and petted her donkey's nose.

 

Philibert Merryweather hadn't been exaggerating. The taproom was clean, the walls painted with flower motives and two big windows let in enough light to give the room a charming atmosphere. The room was full of people – a mixture of sweat, perfume and food, cooked and roasted, hit Eskel's nose as he entered – and a lot of the guests were casting suspicious looks at the three of them.

The innkeep didn't bother. Holding his head up high, he led them to a small table at the side of the room. “Wait here, please”, he said, nodding to the guests at the table next to them who didn't look too pleased, “You will be served shortly.”

With that, he went to the front, where a middle-aged woman with mouse-coloured hair was cleaning tankards. Merryweather went behind the counter, took her into his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“You were long gone”, Eskel heard the woman say, “and you bring strange ...”, she shot them a glance, “... company.”

The innkeep furrowed his brow. “Come, come, my dear”, he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his wife's ear, “don't you remember the Witcher? He already stayed with us, in Aldersberg!”

Merryweather's wife nodded and set down the tankard she had been holding. “I do remember”, she said, licking her lips, “and I don't like his face any better. Look at the customers!”, her voice went down to a hiss, “ _they_ are not happy to see him?! Think about our business! If we have Witchers here, then whores will be next, and then-”

“She does look incredibly happy to have us”, Juka remarked drily, scratching herself behind the ear and glancing up to the counter, “I'm not that certain of course, but I'm sure that inside, she is jumping with joy.”

_Sure._

Eskel smirked. “I'm sure she'll do that tonight. When there are not as many people around.” Shaking his head, he gave her a reassuring smile. “Don't worry. I remember Merryweather from that Aldersberg contract. He is a fine man. Decent, too. He might be a bit full of himself, but he will make good on his promise.”

The half-gnome smiled shyly and nodded. “I see why she is uneasy”, she said, adjusting her seat on the wooden bench, “I'd be afraid, too, if I were in her shoes. The times are really scary, and she probably doesn't know what to make of me.”

“You could take off your hood, for starters”, Eskel remarked, “that way, you won't look as suspicious.”

“Of course. But not more likeable … Also, she'll think that I'm ill.” Juka shook her head and crossed her arms on the table. “I hope we get something to eat before they throw us out”; she said softly, “I'm starving.”

_Good thing she is hungry again._

Eskel turned his attention once again to the couple behind the counter, who seemed to have a heated discussion.

_He must have told her that he invited us to stay._

 

“But we don't have the _space_!”, he heard Merryweather's wife say, scrubbing furiously at an invisible stain on the counter, “we had this big party come in all of a sudden, all merchants, and you are not going to tell me that you value a Witcher higher than-” Casting a look at Eskel, she blushed deeply as their eyes met. “Anyway”, she continued in a low voice, “eight guests is better than two. They will eat more and pay more!”

Merryweather crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave his wife a stern look. “I am not driving them away!”, he stated, “I _promised_ them lodging, I will not go back on my word!”

“They could sleep in the stable, maybe?”

“WIFE!” The inkeep drew himself up to full height. “I am a man of honour! None of _my guests_ will ever sleep in the stable!”

Eskel furrowed his brow and cast a look at Juka - the half gnome was staring hard at the table, drawing circles onto the wood with the tip of her finger.

“Don't worry about her”, he muttered, “we'll-” He broke off as Merryweather headed back to their table.

 

“I am sorry, Master Witcher, but …”, he shot an angry look at his wife who was busying herself with the tankards again, “there is a slight inconvenience about your room. Not to worry of course”, he gave a small laugh, “but I think it will be easier if we will get you something to eat first. This will also help you warming up, little Mistress”, he said, bowing his head to Juka, who looked up and gave him a small smile.

“I'm not cold”, she said, slowly drawing her hood back, “My … hair is a bit … unruly. I didn't want your wife to think that I'm sick.”

Merryweather's eyes shone with curiosity, “a … slip with the scissors, I assume?”, he remarked.

_He really HAS good manners. Didn't notice this the last time._

Juka nodded.

“Ahh, not to worry, little Mistress, not to worry … my youngest did that once. It all … happens, I think.” The innkeep gave her another smile and nodded as if he had come to a decision. “Alright”, he said, getting up and clapping his hands, “please wait here, as I sort out the little problem with the room … But now, I will bring you something to eat.”

_Alright._

Eskel nodded politely. “Thank you very much, Master Merryweather, we do not wish to be a bother. If you find that you don't have room for us-”

“Don't talk about that, not to worry!” Merryweather interrupted him, waving his hand dismissively, “of course there is room for you! Such is the business when working in a large town like Oxenfurt – people come, people go, much more unexpectedly than in Aldersberg! It's got to do with the university.” He smiled, then left them alone, only to return minutes later with large bowls of hot, steaming stew.

Juka's eyes went big. “What is that?”

The inkeep pointed to the bowl. “This? Only potato, and carrots, and a bit of beef. Nothing special, but it's good and it will warm you right up.”

The half-gnome responded with a weak smile and pulled the bowl closer to her. “It smells wonderful.” She closed her eyes and flared her nostrils, taking in the aroma; then, she took the spoon and dug in.

_At last._

Eskel gave Merryweather a respectful nod, then tried the stew himself. It was really good – a bit overcooked, but savory and warm.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe I am writing this, but here is, finally, the next chapter. Thank you all for your patience and your neverending support. Special thanks to Aki on tumblr for spoiling me with fanarts, despite the lack of process. I will try and update more often this year. Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Minutes later, Juka had finished her food. Licking her lips and scratching the wooden spoon over the bottom of the bowl, she stretched herself and yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “That was really, really good”, she sighed.

The Witcher nodded. “True. Not bad at all ...” He put his spoon aside for a moment and drank from the beer Merryweather's wife had brought them. The beer was better than in Velen.

_They are probably taking the water that runs underneath the cemetery. Should add some taste …_  
  


He looked up just in time to see a door behind the counter open and a small girl coming out. She was probably five years old, and was the spitting image of her mother, except for the hair, which was wound into a thin braid that hung over her shoulder. She was holding something wooden in her hand he couldn't quite see.

“Mum! Granny is being mean to me again!”, she whined, hugging her mother and burying her face in the woman's lap. Her mother furrowed her brow, took her shoulders and pushed her a bit away.

“What a stupid thing to say, Joanna!”, she said, “Your grandmother has _never_ been mean to you! Never say that again, you hear me?! What is it now?” The last question came out a lot softer.

“She says I have to be spinning again”, the girl griped. “I don't want to spin yarn. It's stupid, and boring, too.” She furrowed her brow and pouted.

_Reminds me of someone …_

“Every young girl has to know how to spin”, her mother answered, stroking her hair, “don't you want to have a nice husband later? It's important to know how to do it, how will you mend your clothes otherwise, and -”

“ _You_ never spin!”, the girl interrupted her, “it's not fair! Damian doesn't have to spin!”

“Well – Damian is a boy. He doesn't need to.”

“I don't need to do it, too! It makes my hand hurt, and I keep dropping it anyway! I'm going to be an innkeep. Just like dad.”

Merryweather, who had just entered the taproom, chuckled. “A great innkeep you will be”, he said, pulling the girl into a hug. “Now, will you help me and collect the empty tankards from the tables? Off you go, that's my little girl!” He gave her a pat on the back and his daughter squealed in delight and then tucked what Eskel now recognised as a very simple spindle into her belt and went over to the first empty table.

Juka's eyes followed her.  
  


“Do you think he will make good on his promise?”, Eskel asked, keeping his voice low and leaning a bit over to her.

“No. He humours her now, but in the end, her mother will insist and he'll will give in. Look at his wife!”, the young woman pointed over to the counter, “She means it. Joanna will marry, like it or not; _and_ she will learn how to spin, come what may.” She shrugged. “That's how the world is.”

Eskel nodded. “Probably.” He glanced at the girl again, who was carefully carrying two empty tankards back to her parents. Trying hard not to trip over anything, she crunched up her nose in concentration.

_Just like Ciri did it when she had to read one of Vesemir's ancient books._

He took another swig of the beer, then closed his eyes for a moment.

_I'm tired. Hope they settle that dispute over the room quickly._

The Witcher stretched his legs under the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
  


“Why are you looking so weird?”

Eskel opened his eyes.

The girl was standing at their table, an earnest look on her face. He was just about to answer – the words were already on the tip of his tongue – when he realised that the words had been directed at Juka.

_This crap again._

To his surprise, the half-gnome didn't seem to be offended by the question. She took a deep drink from her tankard and set it down in front of her. “What do you mean?”

The girl tucked at her braid and wound a loose strand of hair around her index finger. “You don't look like you're human”, she said, “but you also don't look like a dwarf. Why are you looking so strange?”

“ _Joanna!”_ , her mother's voice rang through the taproom, “don't bother the guests! Come right here! It's time for bed anyway.”

Juka looked up at the inkeep's wife and shook her head, then gave Joanna a smile. “Well, my father looked one way, and my mother looked another. I came out right in the middle. That's why I'm a bit off.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The girl pondered this for a moment. “And your father was a dwarf?”, she finally asked, giving Juka a scrutinizing look.

The young woman shook her head. “He was a gnome. My mother was human, just like you. She had brown eyes, like mine.”

Joanna nodded. “We have some dwarves in the city”, she said, “they work in the bank, and they have a smi-, a smithee. My father brings them tools that are broken, and when we get them back, they are like new.”

The half-gnome gave her a warm smile. “Lots of dwarves are smiths”, she said, “and lots of them work in banks. At least in the bigger cities.”

The girl came a step closer. “I went to the bank once”, she said, her face alight with the importance of the news, “my father took me when he went. He sometimes takes me when he has to go out and do important things. But”, she snivelled, “Damian goes more often. Because he's a _boy_. And I have to stay and spin.” She gave Juka a gloomy look.

_Will you look at that. The girl is quite the talker._

Eskel opened his mouth to say something, but Juka was quicker to answer.

“Spinning is good for the hands and calms the mind. That's what my grandmother taught me.”, she said. “I like spinning yarn. Gives one something to do. Also, it is useful. A woman who doesn't know how to spin doesn't deserve respect, at least not in Mahakam.”

Joanna's eyes went big. “You come from _Mahakam_?”

Juka nodded. “Yes. That's where I was born.” She held out her hand. “Care to share your progress?”

The girl looked at her, then reached for her belt and hesitantly pulled the spindle out.

_No wonder her grandmother insists on her practising more._

Eskel took another swig of beer.

The young woman examined the little bit of wonky thread that was wound around the shaft. “This isn't even half bad.”, she remarked. "How old are you? Four?”

The girl drew herself up to full height. “I'm already five!”, she exclaimed, putting her hands on her sides. “I'm going to be six soon!”

 

“Not for another nine months” Her mother had come up behind her and put her hands on her daughter's shoulders. “I _told_ you not to bother the guests.” She furrowed her brow and gave Juka a suspicious look.

The half-gnome looked up and smiled. “She doesn't bother me at all”; she answered, “I just take interest in the craft, that's all. How long have you been spinning?”

“She learned it last year. You can't start too young, really.”

Juka nodded. “I see. Well-”, she handed Joanna the spindle, “I'm sure you'll be a lot better than me soon. I was already seven, when my grandmother started to teach me.”

Joanna's mother was about to reply something, but the Witcher would never know what she was going to say, because in this moment, Merryweather came back into the taproom and Eskel caught his eye. The inkeep waved him over.  
  


“Excuse me.” Nodding politely, Eskel got up, passed Joanna, who was looking up to him in astonishment, and then headed over to the man. Merryweather beamed.

“I think, I have a solution, Master Eskel. It … might be a bit small, but-”

Eskel raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“Yes. If you follow me – let's leave the women to their chat-”

Eskel turned his head; Juka and Merryweather's wife were talking now. The woman's grasp on her daughter's shoulder had loosened a bit, and Juka was smiling at her.

_Maybe this might work out after all._  
  


“Follow me, Master Eskel, follow me!” Merryweather had opened the door behind the counter and waved his hand; the Witcher ducked under the door and stepped into a small hallway.

“All the way up to the top, that's where we go!” The innkeep was already climbing a narrow flight of stairs, “best of luck that it's not summer yet!” He turned to smile at Eskel, “the heat, you see, won't bother you.”

_Where is he leading me? Under the roof?_

He turned out to be right – Merryweather stopped in front of a small door at the very top of the stairs and fumbled a key out of his pocket.

“Here we are, Master Witcher, here we are – it might be a bit small, as I said, but better than nothing! And I will keep my promise.” He turned the key, opened the door and stepped aside, smiling winningly at Eskel, who entered the room and took a look around.

_Small indeed._

The room the innkeep had unlocked was not more than a chamber – but it seemed clean, at least at the first glance. The roof was indeed right above him, and Eskel made a mental note to keep to the middle of the room. There was a very small window on the right side of the roof, an old nightstand with a stone basin on it – and an old, narrow bed.

_I hope they won't have bedbugs._

“Well? What do you say?” Merryweather said behind him. “It's not more than a chamber, but my wife was right – so many unexpected guests, the house is full! This is all I can offer you – but no one shall say that Philibert Merryweather doesn't keep his word – I hope you don't mind the bed?”

_I guess I'll get my bedroll from the stable – let her have the bed, or we'll switch places in the middle of the night. Better than nothing. It seems to be clean.  
_

Eskel turned around and smiled as friendly as possible. “Thank you so much, Master Merryweather”, he said, “this is more than we could have expected. We'll gladly take the room and happily accept.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been inspired by the enthusiasm and talent of the so-called "Eskel Squad". I had a great time geeking out by looking at screenshots and reading very well-written fanfiction. To thank them, I've started to write my own. Enjoy!


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